Unsuccessfully Saying Goodbye
by EtherealDemon
Summary: After all is said and done Damon is about to leave, but decides to say goodbye to Elena before he does. It doesn't really go as he thought it would.
1. unsuccessfully saying goodbye

**Disclaimer:** TVD belongs to whoever receives the royalties and that sure as hell isn't me. I just pretend while I'm writing.

**Summary:** After all is said and done Damon is about to leave, but decides to say goodbye to Elena before he does. It doesn't really go as he thought it would.

**AN:** It's short and confusing, but that's kind of the point. I just read and replied to a bunch of reviews for my other shots and felt all kinds of love and had my head exploded from all the ego boosting... not to mention that some of my favourite writers here on FF reviewed and... well it was either write something or faint from all the squealing.

oOo

**Unsuccessfully Saying Goodbye**

He wakes her with a gentle shake of her slender shoulder. Her doe eyes flutter open and she drowsily smiles.

"I'm leaving." He states nervously hoping he'll be able to go through with it this time. He has never managed to get this far before.

"OK." She says sitting up and stretching long tanned limbs tiredly. Her skimpy shorts have ridden even further up revealing a generous amount of curvaceous hips and as flimsy as the material of her cami is she might as well not be wearing a top at all.

He gazes with glacial eyes at her longingly. "This is goodbye." He emphasises when she doesn't seem to understand that he's _leaving for good_.

She tosses her blankets aside and they spill to the floor in a puddle of soft down and cotton. "No." She says getting up and opening her well filled closet.

He tilts his head as if it could clear his mind and draws his dark eyebrows together. "No?" He stares at her as she crouches down revealing a strip of delectable flesh as she searches the floor of her closet.

"No." She echoes distractedly. She stands up and he can hear hangers rattling.

"I didn't want to leave before seeing you." He says as irritation seeps into him. Clearly _she_ doesn't care. He should have known better then to come here. Maybe he can finally let her go after this fiasco.

"OK." She says again moving sluggishly over to her dresser.

This is far worse then anything he could have imagined. Never did he think she wouldn't _care_ in any way, shape or form. "OK." He repeats with raised brows as she pulls her underwear drawer fully out of her dresser. "Could you just stop and look at me?" He's exasperated and needs to get this over with. He needs to get the hell out of there.

She stops mid movement. "Yes." She turns towards him wide-eyed and questioning as she balances the drawer on her hip; the silk, satin and lace threatening to spill to the floor in an erotic mess.

He wonders if something's wrong with her... head, perhaps? "Are you OK?" He asks and waits for her to yell at him, but she doesn't. That's when he _knows_ there's something wrong with her.

"Yes." She looks at him like it's him there's something wrong with.

He searches her eyes intently. "Have you been compelled?" He's sure there's something seriously wrong with her. She isn't acting very Elena-esque.

She rolls her eyes and points at her vervain necklace; _Stefan's_ necklace. "No." And suddenly she's back to normal, but he still doesn't understand.

"No?" He inquires stupidly. He's just not getting it.

"_No_." She says with a glare and then unceremoniously dumps the contents of her underwear drawer into a duffel-bag. Is that a midnight-blue silk garter-belt with matching panties and bra?

He swallows thickly and shoves back the delicious images his mind's insisting on conjuring up. "What are you doing?" He asks warily and narrows his eyes.

"Packing." She says slowly as she pulls seemingly random photos off her mirror.

"Packing?" He almost squeaks. He must be going mad 'cause he seems to be having auditory hallucinations. Perhaps he's had some bad blood or Sabrina's cursed him... again.

She turns to look at him with a look that clearly asks if his IQ suddenly dropped fifty points. "Packing." She restates and shoves the photos into her diary that she gingerly tucks into the duffel-bag. He doesn't miss that she takes the one of them dancing at the Miss Mystic Falls Pageant. He'd literally been breathless seeing her descending those stairs towards _him_.

He unnecessarily draws a breath. "Why?" He knows why _he_ wants her to be packing, but refuses to hope for it. How does she always manage to make him feel like the fumbling teenager he hasn't been in over a century and a half?

She scoffs mockingly. "Cleanliness." She deadpans as she grabs her makeup-bag, brush and deodorant.

He feels none the wiser. "Are you going somewhere?" Maybe if he just shakes her long enough the answers will tumble out of her instead of him having to draw them out.

She doesn't even bother looking at him. "Yes." She's pulling out tops and pants and shoving them into her bag.

He rubs at his temples wondering if vampires can get migraines. He's sure he's about to find out. "Where?"

She shrugs and attempts to close her now overstuffed duffel. "Wherever."

Apparently they can get migraines. "Wherever? Can you _be_ more specific?" He mocks and rolls his eyes. His head is pounding painfully all the while conjuring up sinful images of her in the various items she carelessly poured out of her underwear drawer. It might be best if he just dropped dead on the spot... permanently.

She turns to look at him with an amused expression. "Wherever you're going." She specifies and he thinks that maybe he's already dead and somehow accidentally ended up in heaven.

Clearly she's misunderstood somewhere along the way because no one would be stupid enough to let him through the pearly gates. "You're going back to sleep." The painful throbbing wont be subsiding any time soon.

As if on cue she yawns. "OK." She picks her quilt up of the floor and folds it neatly. Good God those legs are long.

He shakes himself mentally. "Like I was saying. I'm leaving." He thinks he may finally be getting through to her. When did he become that guy that doesn't take advantage of the beautiful and slightly confused girl he's been pining after? Right. _When he fell madly in love with her_.

She tucks her quilt, pillow and teddy under her arm and slips her bare feet into a pair of black and white classic high-top Chucks. "Ready." She smiles up at him drowsily looking absolutely divine.

He wonders if maybe she's not fully awake; she can't possibly be. "You're staying; I'm leaving." He says slowly just in case she truly isn't fully awake.

She frowns and grabs her overstuffed duffel-bag. "No." She says firmly sounding like the spoiled little girl he thinks she might have been when her parents were still around.

He chuckles awkwardly and rubs the back of his neck to ease some of the tension. "No?" Not this again.

"NO." She says leaning closer and articulating unnecessarily while glaring fiercely through a haze of fatigue.

Damnittohell. "I'm _not_ coming back." He restates figuring she didn't quite register the statement before. He briefly considers writing it down for her to read because saying it obviously isn't enough.

She frowns a bit like it's him that's not making any sense. "OK." She says putting down her things at her unlaced Chuck clad feet.

He's sure she's gotten it now so he swoops in for the kill. "Goodbye." He says sadly swallowing around the quickly forming painful lump in his throat.

She holds up a single slender finger. "No. Wait." She says before disappearing into the bathroom. He stands there waiting; listening. She emerges with her toothbrush. _Her toothbrush_? "OK. Ready." She says stuffing the slender purple thing into her purse.

So he was obviously unsuccessful at explaining. "Ready?" He questions with knit brows. He thinks he might need a translator at this point.

She narrows her eyes for a moment looking pensive. "Right." She says as if his question had meant she should recheck a mental check-list. She removes her vervain necklace, scribbles on a sticky note and grabs a ring-box off her desk. "Just a sec." She says and disappears into the bathroom with the sticky note.

He waits apprehensively for her return. He wonders if he should allow himself to hope that she understands. If she doesn't understand then this whole thing is beyond ridiculous.

She returns with her hair messily put up into a large black butterfly clip."Lets go." She says while picking up her discarded things once again. He thinks he might have to invent some kind of victory dance for the occasion.

He doesn't want to, but he still asks. "What about Stefan?" He will give everything up to make her happy. **EVERYTHING**.

She shrugs non-committally. "What about him?" She counters as if he weren't an important topic for the both of them.

He shifts his weight uncomfortably. "He's not coming." Good thing he hadn't had a victory dance on archive... that would have been embarrassing once _this_ came up.

She shoots him an odd look. "I know." **THAT** he wasn't expecting.

Oh. How could he have forgotten? "Your family and friends?" He wants her to be sure, it's far too late to not hope because he's such a hopeless romantic and it must all be fate and what not... she's just so amazing.

"Will understand and be missed." She supplies easily.

"Why are _you_ leaving?" He know there's an endless amount of answers she could provide that would break him, still he asks.

She chuckles knowingly. "You." At the simple word he thinks his heart might have grown at least two sizes... but he must be misunderstanding; reading into things that aren't there.

"Me?" She isn't really providing answers he can understand. "Elaborate." He means to demand, but it sounds more like a plea. She can't do this to him; she's not that cruel.

She looks at him fondly. "You're leaving ergo..." She lets the sentence trail off as if he should know how to finish it.

He doesn't and he wonders if she's actively trying to make him feel stupid. "Ergo?" He asks with a cocked eyebrow and an irritated glare. Return of the migraine; the sequel.

She bites back a smile. "... ergo I leave..." She tilts her head to the side and smiles sweetly. "... with you." She adds.

He's starting to recent the word yet... "Why?" She's making things so damn hard.

She rolls her eyes while still smiling sweetly. "I need you." She breaks him and she doesn't even know that she has.

He huffs tiredly. "Danger's over. You're safe." He shouldn't have hoped. He's such a colossal sap.

She tries to hand him her bag. "I know." She says as if he should know as well. WTF?

His eyebrows shoot up to his hairline and his crystalline eyes sparkle. "Then why?" He says that damned word again.

Her mouth forms a silent oh. "I need _you_, not them." She says matter-of-factly.

He sighs, she might as well be a talking rock. "What do you need _me_ for?" He hopes it's good because he's already broken and he's all out of hopes after that last one.

"Everything." She looks at him in a way that makes him _feel_ odd. He's not used to this. It's _good_?

She's not making any sense to him. He just stares at her. He doesn't know what to make of the conversation they're having. One second he's sure she's coming with him for all the right reasons; the next he's not sure if she's even lucid; the third he's quite certain they've both misunderstood. It's at times like these that he hates her just the tiniest bit.

She shoves her bag at him willing him to take it with her perfect twin pools of chocolate. "Lets go." She says and moves towards her bedroom door.

He just stares dumbfoundedly and follows. Once they've made their way out and into his beloved Camaro he asks. "Everything what?"

She kisses him passionately, the instant fire she conjures up within him catching him off guard. "_Everything_." She purrs seductively and snuggles into his side. He must be dreaming.

He smiles softly and turns the ignition. "Everything." He echoes and drives off into the night and a future he never thought he'd have.

oOo

**AN:** If that made sense or even if it didn't; please let me know by reviewing... just _please_ don't make me cry.


	2. breaking for a bite

**Disclaimer:** TVD belongs to whoever receives the royalties and that sure as hell isn't me. I just pretend while I'm writing.

**Summary:** After all is said and done Damon is about to leave, but decides to say goodbye to Elena before he does. It doesn't really go as he thought it would.

**AN:** Some of you seemed to think adding chapters could be a good idea... and well apparently so did my subconscious 'cause this wasn't what I was about to write at all. I'm pretty sure that report that was due will not be done on time.

oOo

**breaking for a bite**

oOo

She's been asleep for hours now and he's still driving... and thinking. He's pretty sure by now that once she wakes up she'll yell at him and demand that he take her back. He's not sure he'll be able to, not now that he's got her all to himself. He can't be selfless all the time; it's just not in him.

Her cellphone plays a tune he doesn't recognize and she stirs and answers without opening her eyes. "Hey." She mumbles into the receiver sleepily. "Mhmm." She continues and he tries his best not to eavesdrop. It's rude.

She's laughing and turning to lie on her back with her head still resting on her pillow in his lap. Her hair spills like liquid silk over the pillow when she pulls her hair out of the butterfly-clip. Not even the undead look this beautiful when they wake up despite their obvious advantages. Once her lids flutter open her gaze lingers on his and her full rosy lips slide into an easy smile.

"Sorry. Love you." She rolls her doe eyes despite the person on the other end not being able to see her or maybe that's precisely why she does it. "Bye." She finishes and cuts the call. "We need to stop." Here it comes.

"OK." He says dejectedly and takes the next exit of the highway. At least she isn't yelling and that should count for something, shouldn't it?

As he pulls in to the first gas station in sight she sits up and is out of the car before it comes to a full stop. Well, he'll need to fill the tank for the long drive back... so that's what he does.

When he goes inside to pay he finds her browsing the shelves with a small shopping-basket. Her flimsy excuse for pyjamas instantly makes him painfully hard. He shoots the teenage cashier a deranged and murderous glare. Suddenly the little twerp seems to find the cigarette-stand as fascinating as he found her mere moments ago.

Spotting him she holds up some sort of bottle he thinks might be shampoo. "Smell this." She demands and he can't help but comply. It has nothing to do with being whipped, he's just curious by nature.

**He is**.

He wrinkles his nose at the artificial vanilla scent. Is he supposed to tell her what he thinks or just smell the damn thing? "I don't like it." He says watching her for a reaction. He did good, _right_?

She distractedly takes another whiff and then closes the the bottle with a click and shrugs. Putting the custard coloured bottle back with it's friends before she moves on.

He still doesn't quite know what to do because she still isn't saying much of anything. He isn't used to it. He almost wishes she'd yell at him... just a little bit.

Once she's apparently done she saunters up to the register where the pimply little squeak is trying his hardest not to **look** at her while he's looking at her. Job well done he reckons.

He notes that she's working hard to get some cavities. "My purse." She says looking bewildered and a little sheepish. "Ops." Damn she's adorable.

He smirks. This he knows how to do. "Number 3 and whatever the lady wants." He produces his very rare coloured credit-card.

The boys eyes bug out and now it's him he's staring at.

She snickers before reaching up on her tiptoes to bestow his cheek with a feather-light kiss. "Thanks." He thinks he could get used to this.

She runs back to the car and dives under her pastel coloured quilt and he wonders why she hasn't yelled at him yet. She really is wearing next to nothing.

"So." He says trying to think of something brilliant to say.

She purses her lips and studies him. "So?"

Since brilliance is escaping him at the moment he simply says. "Where to?" If she says home he might just have to stake himself.

Her dark brows knit together almost making a single line. "Where are we?" She counters as if she's Dorthy and she's mistaken him for Toto. Well they're not in Kansas any more, that's for sure.

He shrugs nonchalantly. "Does it matter?" She better not notice how much he's freaking out.

Giggling sweetly she cups his face with both hands and gives the tip of his nose the tiniest of kisses. "Breakfast." She says instead of answering his question... although perhaps she just did.

He knows that he's wearing a goofy grin and that his mind has wandered to a place it has no business being, but he can't seem to muster up enough bitterness to care. What's the deal with that?

Right. _She _just kissed him again.

He doesn't need to drive far for breakfast, in fact he pretty much just crosses the street. Looking at her as she's about to exit the car he realizes that he doesn't want anyone else to see her like _this_. Her tan legs are so very long, her curves are all in the right places and her breasts are perfect fucking handfuls, not to mention her delicious soft olive skin.

It's possessive and backwards, but he wants to be the only one who gets to see her like this. For once he _needs_ to be selfish when it comes to her because he might just loose his mind otherwise, BUT he's sneaky so he says. "It's cold."

Suddenly her pert bottom is in his face. She's bent at the waist over the front seat and is scrounging around in her duffel. He thinks he might just die.

She clearly has no idea just what effect she has on him because she's wiggling her hips... in-his-face. The only thing that might drive him more crazy is if she would do just that in his lap. He's pretty damn sure THAT is NEVER going to happen. She may have left everyone to come with him, but she's been very clear on the subject before.

Despite his thought pattern and better judgement he realizes that his body has an entire other set of ideals. His hands have made their way to either side of her wiggling hips and seem to be trying to steady her or maybe make her move even more. He isn't sure because his brain and body aren't communicating at the moment.

Her head pops up and she's looking straight at him. "Did you need something?" She inquires as if he isn't groping her from behind.

He smirks, but doesn't seem to be able to retract his hands from her ass. "No." Being slapped is so going to be worth it this time.

"OK." She smiles and slides out of his hands and into her seat holding a pair of blue yoga-pants and a grey hoodie. She doesn't slap him even a little bit.

She surprises him by slipping out of her pyjama shorts unabashedly giving him a free viewing of her lacy red panties. As his eyes widen and his mouth goes dry he wonders if he accidentally compelled her though his vivid erotic dreams at some point. Is that even possible?

"I hope they have cinnamon toast." She says slipping on her pants and zipping up the hoodie. "I could really go for some cinnamon toast."

He blinks repeatedly because that's the only thing he seems to be able to do. He thinks he might be in chock.

When he doesn't follow she opens the door and slides back into the car. "Did you need to have a... _drink_ first?" She looks a bit uncertain and he just can't seem to process why.

"Huh?" That's what he actually says because... seriously...

Her lower lip is firmly in place between her pearlies as she searches his face. "You didn't bring blood bags." She finally says breaking the silence.

Well, no he didn't. He hadn't planned this; her coming with him and holding him accountable for his monstrous ways. He shakes his head slowly never dropping her gaze.

She purses her lips into a tiny little pout. "Did you need to now?"

God yes, he's starved after all this emotional crap and not understanding anything any more. He doesn't say that though, he just nods.

She's biting her lip again in deep thought and he's sure there's a lecture brewing. He really doesn't have the... anything to take it right now.

"I had some vervain last Wednesday." She says as if that means anything at all.

His dark brows furrow slightly as he studies her curiously. "OK?" Finally he seems to be able to form words once more.

She cocks her head to the side urging him to continue, but he doesn't know _what_ to continue saying. Finally she rolls her eyes and huffs in irritation. "Well?"

Now he's full on frowning and feeling stupid. "What?" He almost flinches because that's the closest his voice has ever sounded to a whine and he really doesn't like it.

He can see that she's trying very hard to suppress the laughter glittering in her eyes. Instead of letting on that she's making him feel stupid he scowls and crosses his arms over his broad chest and glares angrily at her.

Apparently that was a bad move because she's doubled over trying her best to muffle her laughter while wiping tears from the corners of her eyes. He hates that she finds his confusion funny. It's not.

Once her laughter finally subsides, after far too long in his opinion, she grins and slides one leg over to his other side so that she's straddling him.

He's still furious so he just glares at her despite finally having her where he wants her.

She's trying very hard not to laugh again as his scowl deepens and he refuses to utter a sound. She presses a kiss onto his scowling unresponsive lips and he hears the zipper of her hoodie going down. Not too deep down in his mind he hopes she's about to strip down again.

She moves her mouth close to his ear as she sweeps her chocolate curtain of hair over one shoulder. "Aren't you thirsty?" She's pressing her bosom into his crossed arms as she whispers. Is she mad?

Wow, she smells like vanilla and rain and... Oh. Good. God... she's tilting her head just so. If he just stops scowling and dips his head then he could bury his fangs right into where her pulse is dancing just underneath that delicious olive skin of hers.

Once again his body's betraying him as his arms uncross and his hands smooth over her - he knew it - perfect handfuls and slide down her sides. One hand dips down to support the small of her back while the other travels up to tangle it's fingers in her silky mane. He's not scowling any more.

"Don't you want just a little sip?" She teases slipping the hoodie and her top of her shoulder and leaning further into him.

He doesn't need to dip his head any more, her pulse is drumming lightly on his lips making it impossible for his fangs to stay put.

"I trust you." She whispers and that's it.

His teeth penetrate her delicate skin and he moans as the first drops of her touch his tongue. It's better than anything he could ever have imagined. She tastes like... it's something he's never encountered before and he doesn't know what it means, he just knows that it's the best freaking thing he's ever tasted in his very long life.

When he hears her breathy moan in his ear and feels her fingers tangle in his hair so that she can urge him to drink deeper he fears that he might go mad from pleasure. But then she's arching her back and then... "Oh, Damon."... _that's_ what she moans and he's sure he's gone mad now.

He reluctantly pulls away when her heartbeats slows and he has to lean back in his seat to catch his breath. He didn't know it could be like this.

She's pressing a lingering kiss to his lips which no longer can resist her. When he opens his eyes she's gazing down at him in a way she's only done once before; the night before. It still makes him feel _odd_. His eyes flick down to her blood-smeared lips and he just knows that one day she'll be the most gorgeous creature to walk this earth... for now she's the most beautiful human he's ever seen. Soon though. Soon.

She giggles slightly dazed as she zips her hoodie back up and leans back onto the steering-wheel. She scrunches her nose when she licks the remnants of her own blood from her lips. "Coppery." She says, but he knows that's not really what she tastes like.

She's perfect.

"How did you make it feel like _that_?" She says with a slight blush and twinkling eyes.

Leave it to his brother to get it wrong. "It's no supposed to hurt." He retorts with a superior smirk.

She rolls her big brown orbs and scoffs. "I know _that_. I meant how did you make it..." She stops and worries her bottom lip while she searches for the proper word. "... make it feel like I was... ugh, I don't know. I've never felt like that before. Euphoric?"

There's this _feeling_ that starts blooming in his chest at her words. He has no idea what it is and he thinks he might choke on it or maybe even explode. "Euphoric?" He echoes and he can't even muster a suggestive smirk or one of his classic double entendre's.

She smiles and nods before moving off his lap and sitting next to him. "So, how do you do it?" She asks again as she reaches for the door-handle.

He considers her question for a bit and there really isn't an answer for what she's asking. "I didn't." Once they're out of the car he turns to look at her. "You don't taste like anyone else."

She chuckles and smacks his shoulder playfully. "I'm sure." She rolls her eyes clearly thinking he's trying to play her in some way. For once he isn't.

"No, really." He says again slipping a cautious arm around her waist.

She leans into his side and looks up to scrutinize him while they walk inside. "Really? Ste..." She trails off and makes a face.

He thinks he may know what she was about to say. Surely something about his brother never mentioning it. What would he know anyway? The boy prefers squirrels... that's like rather drinking sewage water then bourbon.

She's a well aged wine. No. She's better. She's the first sip of water placed before the thirst.

Divine.

He can't say that though. That would ruin him, she'd walk all over him after that. Besides it's far too sappy for him to admit so he settles for a simple. "Yup." He confirms with a pop of the p for emphasis.

They follow a waitress that seats them at a booth. He's surprised when she slides in next to him instead of across. She still hasn't moved out of his arms.

"... exceptionally good looking couple. How long have the two of you been together?" He hadn't been listening to the elderly waitress now smiling at them and waiting for an answer. Personally, he totally agrees that they would be... if they were a couple that is.

"Not nearly long enough." She answers with pinking cheeks and he barely manages to catch himself before he jumps on the table to do an impromptu happy dance.

The elderly lady chuckles. "Oh honey, I know the feeling. Forty-two years and I still haven't had enough of my Henry." She pulls out her pen and pad readying her for their order. "Now what'll it be my darlings?"

They order eggs, bacon and coffee and she gets her cinnamon toast as well even though it's not on the menu. People just can't help but love her, he should know.

He wants to ask her if they are a couple, but he doesn't really know how without sounding like a needy idiot... you know, like his brother. She'd answered the waitress as if they were. Then again he might just be hearing what he wants to hear. It has happened before.

Surely what she has to say on the subject wont be anything he wants to hear anyway.

Her phone buzzes and she fishes it eagerly out of her purse. She snickers and rapidly starts typing back. If he just moves an inch closer he could read her message.

Oh, that wasn't worth seeing.

Apparently her aunt wants to use chopsticks to remove his vital organs... not that most of them actually are vital. He looses interest when he sees the word butter-knife and... well she wants to aim far lower with it than his heart.

She's going to want to turn back home and he'll have to stay there because after having tasted her, he'll never be able to leave her side again.

"Do you want to go back?" It slips out before he can stop himself.

Her hands that are clasping her phone fall deftly on her lap. "You want to take me back." She dead-pans.

He glances at the phone in her lap. It wasn't a question, but he still responds. "No, but I will if you want me to." He would, but he really doesn't want to.

"I..." She stops before she actually says anything and her eyes are suddenly brimming with tears.

He doesn't do crying. He doesn't know how.

She looks down at her phone and then back up. "Did I do something wrong?" She asks in a shaky voice.

His brows shoot up to his hairline in bewilderment. Where the hell did _that_ come from? "No." He answers carefully. He really doesn't know what he'll do if she starts crying.

She clears her throat and her eyes are so close to overflowing that he daren't breath. "Then why do you want to take me back?"

Well hell. She isn't listening. "I don't." He repeats slowly avoiding sarcasm and snarkiness as best he can.

She sniffles and a voice in the back of his mind tells him to run. He doesn't listen to it. "Then why did you ask?" She says in a very very small voice as she avoids eye-contact.

"Because I thought **you** wanted to." He states firmly tilting her chin up with his index finger.

She looks back into his eyes and the tears seem to have subsided for the moment. "Why would you think that?" She asks and he suspect that she still thinks _something's_ her fault. It's ridiculous of course.

His eyes flick momentarily to her cell still laying in her lap. "You miss them." He states finally. It's why the question had slipped out. That and the fact that he wants her to be happy... even if it makes him miserable.

"Well, yeah." She says with the tiniest of shrugs. "We both knew _that_." A little bit of her spunk is coming back. He wonders if maybe she just needs to eat something. She hasn't for a while and he did just deplete some of her...

The food arrives just in time. He was right; she's starving.

She smooths over the whole thing as if they'd never broached the subject. "Where are we going?"

He makes a mental note that he'll have to remember to feed her regularly. "Where would you like to go, kitten?" He says and she flinches.

He can tell that she wants to snap at him for calling her that, she always does and he doesn't know why, but she swallows it down. He doesn't want her to do that. Not with him.

"What's wrong?" He asks because he wont let her get away with not being herself. That's not how they do things.

She avoids his eyes as she mumbles. "Nothing."

He tilts his head to the side and scrutinizes her. "Liar." He pokes her in the ribs playfully when he says it.

She giggles involuntarily. "Damon." She whines and smacks his hand away.

He loves it... really, any way she chooses to say his name; he loves it.

When he simply arches a brow in warning she sighs dramatically and rolls her eyes. "Fine. Stop calling me kitten. I hate it."

He can't help but grin at her. She doesn't do this with anyone but him. Only he gets to see her this way. "Why?" He presses because he knows this'll be fun.

She makes an adorable face that's supposed to convey her disgust. It doesn't. "It reminds me of Katherine."

Oh. That wasn't actually fun.

Now it's his turn to scrunch up his face in disgust. "Why?" He just keeps saying that damned word.

She blinks a couple of times as if she's trying to clear her sight or mind or something. "Kat." She finally says still doing that blinking thing.

"OK." He says sucking a deep breath through his teeth. "Let's never use _that_ term of endearment again." It had never even crossed his mind that the two could be linked so easily together. No wonder she used to snap at him for using it.

She's still staring at him strangely doing her blinking thing as if she's recalibrating her brain or something. If it ain't broken, don't fix it.

He sips his coffee warily. She might go on a murder spree. He doesn't _know_ he's never seen her like this. "You OK, sweetie... honey... babe... darling... cupcake?" He frowns none of them seem to roll of his tongue right. It's what he calls other women; not her; never her.

She frowns right back. "I don't like any of those." She says firmly and goes back to shovelling food in her mouth.

"Princess?" He smirks when her head whips towards him so she can glare properly. "_Angel_?" He knows she'll hate that one as well. She does.

He's pretty sure she just growled. It was pretty friggin' hot.

He throws his hands up in surrender while he chuckles at her curled upper lip. "OK, OK, I'll stop. I promise love, I'll stop."

As soon as he surrenders she straightens in her seat and her features soften into a dreamy smile. "I like that one." She says and she's looking at him in that way again.

He feels _odd_ and he's apparently grinning. "Which one" He asks after blurting out so many he can't know for sure.

Her smile widens. "The last one."

He doesn't actually remember which one that was. Oh. _Oh_.

There it is again that _feeling_ blooming out in his chest. He hopes he isn't about to get a heart-attack, he can't... right? "I like I too, _love_." That one rolls smoothly off his tongue and tastes just right.

She leans towards him with puckered lips as she looks at him from under heavy lids. Just like that he gets to kiss her where everyone can see them. He really likes this part.

oOo

**AN:** My first ever actual second chapter. Clicketty-clicketty-click the review button please.


	3. pining after a piece of pie

**Disclaimer:** TVD belongs to whoever receives the royalties and that sure as hell isn't me. I just pretend while I'm writing.

**Summary:** After all is said and done Damon is about to leave, but decides to say goodbye to Elena before he does. It doesn't really go as he thought it would.

**AN:** What? A third chapter... has the world gone mad? No, but I possibly have. All your amazing reviews (I heart the bjesus out of all of you, especially you JR) are food for my soul and possibly the reason for the cheesiness of this chapter. Don't hate the cheese; hate the game... wait, that's not how that goes.

oOo

**pining after a piece of pie**

oOo

He's watching her from the periphery of his sight as she writes in her diary. She's been at it for about an hour. She pulls out a napkin from her purse that she clearly took from the little diner they had breakfast at. She smooths out a crease on the front of it where the diners red logo looks back at her. When she's satisfied with her work she slips the napkin between the pages she'd just been writing on and closes it.

"Can we stop there." She's pointing out the window with a slender finger at some random tiny little town.

He shoots her a curious glance still stuck on what she could have been writing about for an HOUR. "Sure, but why?" He asks with slightly furrowed brows as he takes the next exit.

She looks at him as if there's something slightly wrong with him. "They have pie." She says still pointing out the window. "Famous pie." She taps the window hard with her pointing finger and she's clearly really hell-bent on getting those cavities. "Don't you like pie?"

He chuckles at the expression she's wearing. Apparently not liking pie is unfathomable to the beautiful girl sitting next to him. "I like pie. Do you?" He teases because that's what they do.

She shoots him a wry expression and crosses her arms over her chest. He'll have to remember that joking about pie is off limits. "I like pie." She says in a far too serious tone. "Especially famous pie." She continues as if famous were an actual flavour.

His eyebrows have climbed up to his hairline. "Good to know." He says, not sure what else he's _allowed _to say.

Giggles bubble out of her parted lips and she looks so damn pleased with herself. "You should have seen your face." She mimics his apparently overly shocked and terrified face.

He rolls his crystalline eyes at her antics with a big grin on his face. This is turning out to be kind of fun.

Her expression sombres slightly, but her dusky-pink lips are still curved into an amused smile. "Seriously though, I really like pie."

He smirks his signature smirk before speaking. "I make a helluva cherry pie." He was a baker for a few years over in Europe, Antibes actually.

"Really? I don't know how to bake." She seems to be I awe of his pie making skills, which she hasn't actually experienced. Her phone buzzes and she checks it. "Where's your phone?" She asks with a furrowed brow. "Your brother's been trying to call you."

He doesn't want to talk to his brother. "At the Boardinghouse." He answers with a nonchalant shrug.

She's eerily quiet. He's pretty sure she isn't breathing so he glances at her. He's right she isn't breathing. She's staring at him wide-eyed and stock-still and the only evidence that she's indeed alive is the slight twitch of her parted lips and the tears teetering on the verge of her lashes.

He has no idea what's going on. "'Lena?" He almost whispers because she's scaring the crap out of him and he's worried that if he says it any louder then she might break.

Silent tears spill down her cheeks as she unblinkingly stares at him. She exhales sharply only to draw an equally sharp breath in. She's stays unmoving for a long beat. "Stop the car." She shrieks breathlessly.

When the car comes to a full stop she fumbles frantically with her seatbelt before opening the door and spilling out in a tangled mess of long lean limbs. "I can't breath." She wheezes and he's immediately by her side.

He's hovering over her unsure of what to do as she chants that she can't breath on an endless loop. "_Elena_?" He doesn't know what to say or do and they've drawn a crowed of the famous-pie-town-folk. "Elena? _Love_?"He's on his knees next to the pile of the girl he loves trying to calm her. If he could just get her to look at him then he could just compel her to calm down, but she's refusing to look up.

She faints.

He catches her right before her forehead connects with the concrete. "'Lena?" He tries shaking her gently. He scoops her gingerly into his arms and stands. He's fucking crying. He doesn't do crying.

The pie-makers collectively murmur directions and some even point out where the "Docs office" is. Not bothering to lock or even close the doors of the Camaro he's off.

"She needs help." He shouts frantically as he burst into the small clinic with tears still streaming down his face.

A twenty-something nurse comes up to them. "You need to calm down sir." She says and he all but growls.

He glares icily at the stupid little nobody. "Help her." He snarls at the idiot who reels back in horror.

The useless nurse is being shoved to the side by a small middle-aged Hispanic woman. "What happened to your girlfriend?" She asks calmly as she ushers them into an exam room.

"She said she couldn't breath." He answers as a bit of relief washes over him. It's finally quiet enough for him to focus on her faint, but steady heart-beat.

The little Hispanic lady gestures for him to lay her down on the exam table. "She's breathing just fine right now on her own." She pats his arm reassuringly and starts poking and prodding _her_ disturbingly still body.

He swallows thickly around the lump in his throat. "We were just talking about pie and then she was crying and _not_ breathing... and then she passed out." Not even a day and somehow he's managed to break her. He has no idea how that even happened. "What's wrong with her?"

"Did you try a _transfusion_?" She says without looking at him as she takes her blood-pressure.

He just stares at her back in disbelief. "What?" He finally musters up. Has the world gone completely insane?

She glances at him briefly over her shoulder. "OK, I can pretend if that's what you want."

That's when it hits him. There's the crackle of magic in the air and the distinct smell of a witch emanating from the dark-haired nurse. "Your a... what's wrong with her?" It doesn't matter _what_ she is what matters is the still unconscious beauty that for some bewildering reason trusts him.

The small nurse turns to smile fondly at him. "I'm pretty sure she just fainted. She'll be fine." She shuffles to a cabinet in the far end of the room coming back with a small vial. "We don't get many of your kind around here." She says opening the small vial and waving it under Sleeping Beauties nose.

She comes to with a start. "Where am I?" She questions drowsily rubbing her temple. "Damon?" She looks around desperately before she spots him. She lets out a sigh of relief only to study him worriedly. "What's wrong?"

"You passed out sweetheart." The witch nurse supplies calmly.

She furrows her brow slightly in confusion. "Oh." She turns her gaze to him wanting confirmation.

He nods and wipes his cheeks suddenly embarrassed that he'd been crying.

Her grey hoddie has slipped off her shoulder and is hanging askew. "There's the culprit." The nurse smiles reassuringly as she inspects the twin punctures.

Quick as lightning she's zipped the hoodie all the way up as she leans away. "I have diabetes." It comes out rushed and sounds more like a question then anything else. The girl is a terrible liar.

The witch chuckles knowingly. "The two of you are just adorable. I'll play along." She says with an amused shake of the head. "So, you fainted because you have _diabetes_ and not because your undead boyfriend got a bit carried away and didn't reciprocate..." She grins slyly at the both of them. "... and those weren't bite-marks at all, you simply prefer to stab _insulin injections_ into your neck."

While she gawks at the all-knowing nurse, he simply chuckles. "OK, I got a bit greedy. She just tastes _so good_." He quite likes that he isn't being judged, rather she's teasing the two of them for being stupid. He'll have to keep in touch; she might come in handy one day.

The little Hispanic woman rolls her eyes at him and pats his arm reassuringly. "It's on account of your connection." She walks back over to the cabinet and pulls out a large glass container full of lollies. "This'll hold you over until he decides to be a gentleman and share." She says urging the still gawking brunette to take some of the candy she's offering.

Snapping out of her daze and taking a few lollies she asks. "What connection?" He'd been on the verge of asking himself.

The little nurse looks between the two disbelievingly. "The bond between your souls." She says and shoots them a look saying that she clearly thinks they're adorably clueless. "The reason you have your soul fully back..." She points at the tall, dark and handsome. "... and yours isn't fractured any more." She points at the doe-eyed beauty still perched on the exam table.

The pretty brunette makes a face in disbelief. "Like soul-mates?" She obviously doesn't believe in the concept or maybe she just doesn't believe that they are and that stings him... just a little.

The witch waves a hand dismissively in the air. "No, of course not. That's just ridiculous." She snickers softly. "Soul-mates is so wishy-washy. No, there's an actual tether between your souls. I can see it plain as day." She smiles lopsidedly and looks between the two. "It looks a bit like lilac smoke and it's strong."

He vaguely remembers hearing something akin to this several decades ago; he hadn't really been listening at the time... what, with all the mindless killing and taunting of his brother and what not.

"Out you two go." The nurse says shooing them out of the exam room. "Now you take good care of your girl." She scribbles on small piece of paper and hands it over to him. "And give me a call if her _diabetes_ acts up again."

He's grinning from ear to ear. He really likes this witch and that rarely happens, what's even more rare is that she seems to like _him_. "Thanks."

He's quite chocked when the little witch nurse pulls him into a tight hug and whispers into his ear. "Call me when she needs her ring." Then she does the same to _his girl_. He refrains from eavesdropping. The witch could easily drop him for it, besides it's rude.

She's crunching one of the lollies in deep thought as they walk out. He's curious as hell, but he isn't sure he should ask her to share. The poor thing looks exhausted.

She slips under his arm and snakes her own around his waist. It doesn't escape him just how perfectly she fits there. "I'd like some famous pie now." She says completely ignoring that they just walked out of a hospital because she passed out and despite knowing why she fainted he doesn't actually know _why_ she fainted. He thinks it might somehow be his fault.

He pushes the whole soul thing out of his mind for the moment in favour of feeding the girl he apparently was far to greedy with. He notes that the pie-making-people are very considerate. They've rolled the Camaro off the side of the road and closed and locked all the doors... also some one has left a note with the directions to where he can find his car keys. It's a bit creepy if he's honest.

Sherry, one of the famous-pie-making-people hands his keys over as soon as they walk into her pie-making-establishment. "You alright, honey?" The question is aimed at the candy crushing girl tucked under his arm.

She smiles sweetly. "I'm fine, better if I get some famous pie."

The buxom blond grins cheerily. "Have a seat and I'll bring you both a slice of my most popular pie. Strawberry and key-lime pie with rose-flavoured cream, good?"

She instantly brightens up. "Perfect and milk to go with it." The girl must really love pie.

They sit at one of the wrought iron tables across from each other. Her lack of chatter is unnerving him somewhat and the way she's staring down into the table is far worse.

She flicks her big brown eyes to met his. "Why did you leave your phone at the Boardinghouse?" There's this hint of something broken in her eyes that he hasn't seen for quite some time.

He isn't sure where she's going with this, but he knows it's going to be bad. "I was leaving for good; cutting all ties." He respond warily. He had intended to disappear.

She swallows thickly and he can see that she's fighting back tears. "You were leaving me." She states shakily.

"I was leaving _everything_." He'd been leaving that life behind him because he knew they'd be better off without him there.

"How was _I_ supposed to reach you?" She continues and bites hard into her dusky pink lower lip.

Honesty, he reminds himself, that's what they do. "You weren't."

The flash of hurt that crosses her features as she turns away to hide her face in her palms is heartbreaking. He wants to fix it, but he isn't sure he ever can.

The blond brings their pies and milk and leaves quickly when she notices the state they're in. "Bon appetite." She throws over her shoulder as she scurries off.

"_Elena_?" He tries softly. This is why he isn't lovable. This is why he's always the second choice.

She removes her hands and stares into the table. Her face is flushed and her lashes bare traces of tears being spilled."You were leaving me." She states again in a much smaller voice then before. Her beautiful brown eyes glisten with tears as she flicks them up to look at his. "Do you want me to leave?"

He almost chokes as an unbearable tightness settles over his chest. "No." He stares at her not knowing how to make her understand.

"No?" She questions back with a bit more force then before.

He shakes his head making sure not to drop her gaze. "No, I don't _ever_ want you to leave." He states firmly. He's sure that if she does then he'll drop dead on the spot.

She shoots him a tiny disbelieving smile. "Yeah?"

He takes her small hands in his and gives them a gentle squeeze. "Yeah." He echoes.

"Why were you leaving me?" She questions once again ignoring the fact that he was leaving everything.

He sighs knowing she wont stop until she gets all the answers whether she wants them or not."I couldn't take it any more." He answers honestly as he absent-mindedly traces patterns on the back of her hands with his thumbs.

She sniffles and she looks a bit scared. "Take what?"

"The judging, the lying, the hiding, the counsel, my brother; all of it." He probably shouldn't say this last part, but somehow he knows that she'll figure out that he left something out. "Mostly, watching you from afar when you were right there next to me."

She's squeezing her eyes shut and her mouth is twisted in agony. "I did this." She breathes out.

What?

He tugs on one of her hands. "Come here, _please_."

She settles herself dejectedly on his lap at his request. She has things so backwards... or maybe he's just telling it wrong.

"You've done **nothing** wrong." She's refusing to meet his eyes so he cups her face in his hands and forces her to look at him. "I'm in love with you Elena." He can barely believe he's managed to say it... or that she hasn't slapped him yet.

She sniffles once more and smiles softly. "I know."

He smiles bitterly back at her as the familiar feeling of rejection settles over him. "And you aren't mine." He murmurs under his breath and her hearing as he slips his arms around her and gives her a reassuring squeeze. He gives her a firm kiss on the temple. "Now eat some of that famous pie you've been longing for."

She kisses his cheek and blots her eyes with a napkin. "I'm glad you don't want me to leave." She says as she picks up a plate and starts in on one of the slices of pie. She's still on his lap and doesn't appear to be in a hurry to move out of her current position.

"I'm glad you're sticking around." He barely manages to say before she shoves a forkful of delicious pie in his mouth and leans into him further.

oOo

**AN:** In case I didn't make it clear enough; Elena had a panic attack when she realized Damon had intended to leave without her being able to reach him... **ever**. Please don't make me beg you to... you know full well that I'll stoop that low.


	4. waking up to worship

**Disclaimer:** TVD belongs to whoever receives the royalties and that sure as hell isn't me. I just pretend while I'm writing.

**Summary:** After all is said and done Damon is about to leave, but decides to say goodbye to Elena before he does. It doesn't really go as he thought it would.

**AN:** Oh, my lovelies, all of you're favourites, alerts and reviews mean so very, _very_ much to me. This chapter is a bit of an homage to Damon's drastic force-feeding of Elena. It's short and on the verge of being sMut. I don't think I need to up the rating, but then again I'm a bit iffy on the ratings... they're very vague.

oOo

**waking up to worship**

oOo

He wakes up with her slender form draped across half his body. He's surprised to say the least. Not surprised that she's comfortable enough to share this sort of physical intimacy with him, she did after all spend a good amount of time yesterday in his arms feeding him... _pie_, rather the fact that she sometime during the night managed to slip into his bed without him waking up. He must be loosing _it_.

Her phone buzzes on the night-stand between their beds and she rouses. She crawls further on top of him reaching blindly for her phone. "Five more minutes." She murmurs into his chest sending delicious vibrations across his bare skin.

He chuckles softly and snatches her phone of the night-stand and turns the alarm off altogether. "Sleep for as long as you want, _love_." He whispers into her hair that is softer then the silk sheets he used to love back in the 1980's.

She sighs contentedly and relaxes noticeably. Her long tanned limbs cocoon his body in a way that make him feel more at ease then he can ever remember having felt. His arms find their way around her tiny body and he smiles at how snugly she fits there.

"I can hear your heartbeat." She announces in an awed whisper. "It's faint and really slow, but I can hear it." She brings one hand to his chest and taps her slender fingers against it softly every time his heart beats.

He chuckles again because she's so damn adorable and he's so... _happy_. "And you thought I was heartless." He teases and wonders if she thought his kind didn't have fully functioning hearts. In his case he can't really blame her for thinking otherwise, both about his actual and metaphorical one.

Her fingers keep up the steady rhythmic beat of his heart as she answers more seriously than he had anticipated. "I just didn't know there was an actual beat and I **never** though of you as heartless."

He just smiles at that and hones in his hearing on her distinct rhythmic beat. He settles his hand next to hers; mimicking her heartbeat by tapping his fingers. "That's you." He says and gives the crown of her head a soft kiss.

"Every five." She says watching both their hands as they tap at his chest. "Our hearts, they're synced. Your beats every fifth time mine does." Stopping her tapping she slides her small hand into his larger and entwines their fingers.

This must be what heaven feels like he thinks. "I know." He's known that their hearts beat as if they were meant for the same song. He's known since the moment he set eyes on her. He sometimes wonders how Katherine ever managed to trick him, but then she always did have witches and various tricks up her sleeves.

She chuckles softly and closes her eyes again. "So, our hearts are synced and our souls are tethered to each other. How cheesy is that?" She chuckles again and the sound suddenly hurts his ears. "Next someone'll say we're star-crossed." She snickers and he hears his heart start to beat off rhythm; it fucking burns.

"Hilarious." He states dryly trying to force his heart back onto its original path by sheer willpower. It's not working. "Breakfast." He states... says... asks... he's not sure. He just needs a subject change; something to distract himself.

Her wrist is being firmly shoved between his lips. "Not too greedy." She singsongs playfully clearly not having noticed his _change of heart_ and mood.

The pulse her wrist emits is hypnotizing and it takes him longer than he would like to admit to clear his mind and remove her wrist from his mouth. Without thinking much he gives her pulse-point a delicate kiss before speaking. "Not what I meant. Besides you'll get addicted and we can't have that." He says it more for his own benefit than hers because he's only had one sip and he's aching for more. Despite all this, he reminds himself, she's not his.

Her eyes pop open and she props her head up to look at him. "Really? How come?" Her gaze is wide and curious and she's so goddamn gorgeous.

His hands still have a mind of their own. One is making its way down the length of her mussed hair; tangling its fingers in the soft dark curls. The other is ghosting over the delicious curve of her exposed thigh leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. "It's a blood high." He says as he vaguely thinks that he's getting lost in her twin pools of melted chocolate.

"Is that so bad?" She questions wearing a mischievous smirk as she traces patterns with soft fingertips on his chest. His mind supplies that she's writing something, but gets distracted once she parts her plump lips to speak again. "It's not like it's an actual drug, is it?"

Swallowing down a groan his eyes linger on her lips for longer then appropriate before they make their way back up to hers. "There are side-effects." He replies seriously. Something he would _love_ to share with her, but doubts she would ever even consider. "It's highly addictive and after repeatedly sharing blood a bond gets created."

"Oh. What kind of bond?" She tilts her head to the side eyeing him curiously.

One of his hands has found it's way under her shorts and is currently fingering the delicate lace of her red, his mind supplies with a vivid flash of memory, underwear. He has to clear his throat in order to make his vocal cords usable. "It's different each time. Sometimes it's shared feelings or thoughts, in some instances it's possible to sense each other, heightened senses or urges... compelling from a distance. No two bonds are the same." His mind supplies him with a mental pat on the back for distracting her long enough for his hands to do as they please.

She hums and slides herself a bit further up his body stopping once her face is mere inches from his. "Those sound like perks, not side-effects." She leans a bit closer and he can feel her warm breath tickling his skin.

He makes a noise of agreement distractedly as his crystalline gaze lingers on her smugly grinning mouth. She's kissed him before, but he's not sure he's _allowed_ to kiss her whenever he wants to. He **really** wants to right now.

To hell with it.

His hand that's still tangled in her hair fists to allow him to tilt her head just right so that he can devour her lips with his. When she responds hungrily and her hands make their way up his chest eager to roam his skin, his other hand reacts by cupping her bottom and pulling her even closer.

She's panting heavily when she finally pulls back to breath while he waits for a slap that will never come. On the contrary she immediately dips her head back down to trail open-mouthed kisses from his jawline down to the juncture of his neck and shoulder. He can't hold back the groan that erupts from him when she experimentally starts nipping at the skin there, or the gasp she rips from him when she bites down hard with her blunt teeth. It turns out it's hard enough to draw blood.

She returns her attention to his mouth with bloodied lips. **His blood on her lips**. It's the single most erotic thing any human girl has thought to make him endure. She's _that _perfect.

When she abruptly pulls away and stares at him he unintentionally growls in frustration. "You're even more gorgeous up close." She says with awe just under her breath meant only for herself, he thinks. It's when she ghosts her lips over the delicate skin below his eyes that the full implications of her words hit him. Her previous ministrations had sent him into full blown blood-lust; protruding veins, blood-filled eyes and unsheathed canines.

She's **always** known how to make him loose control.

She moves back to his lips and kisses him in an agonizingly tender way that makes his heart flutter and skip back onto it's original beating path. He's kissed many girls in his unnaturally long life, but none have kissed him like _this_. It's at this point where he'd have to compel them to stay and yet here _she_ is kissing _him_ making him feel... hell, he has no fucking idea what he's feeling.

"Bite me." She pleads catching him completely off guard and making his painful hard-on even more painfully hard. Mistaking his disbelieving stare and pain-filled groan for reluctance she begs. "Please Damon, I _need_ you to."

Yeah, she's always known how.

He rips into his own wrist and shoves it at her before burying his fangs in hers and moaning loudly once the first drop of her spills into his mouth. He has to force himself to take slow pulls; he doesn't want a repeat of yesterday.

She's not gentle. Somehow he'd convinced himself that she'd take small delicate sips... well, he fantasized. She's not and it's driving him insane in the most pleasurable way possible. Her teeth are buried into his flesh as deeply as his are in hers and her warm mouth is drinking him in deeply. Her pupils are so dilated that her dark eyes appear almost black where they peer at him from under heavy lids. She's making the most delicious sounds of pleasure while she pushes on his wrist with her free hand and writhes on top of him. He's in heaven all right.

Her blood is even more enthralling then before. His skin has become super sensitive and _that __feeling_ is blooming in his chest; growing and expanding out into his limbs and further to the tips of his toes, fingers and nose. The whole of him tingles and waves of heat and something indescribably overwhelming and **good **flow over his lips and down into the very core of him at every single sip of her. He'll die if she ever leaves him.

When her eyes roll backwards in their sockets and her whole body trembles from release, he knows it's time to stop before they spiral completely out of control. He very reluctantly pulls back as he crashes down of the wave that he's been riding.

She sits up writhing slightly in place as her overheated core comes into contact with his still overly hard bulge. She smiles drunkenly down at him with pink teeth and ruby smears across her plump lips. When she heaves a sigh she sets a large crimson drop in motion. It slides down her chin and neck leaving a lovely glistening trail that soon snakes it's way down her chest and into her cleavage. As he leans up intending to lick, she cuts him off by using her fingers to wipe the trail; smearing blood up her olive skin. Once her hand reaches it's end destination she sucks on her fingers drawing out a moan as her eyelids flutter closed and her head lolls back. The only thing he can do is stare.

"So good." She breathes steadying herself by grasping one of his shoulders. He doesn't have to wait any longer **she is** the most gorgeous creature to ever walk this earth and he's staring at the proof.

He captures her lips with his, unable to resist having her any way she'll allow him to. Their mouths slide slickly against each other as their blood mixes and mingles with their tongues. She pulls away with a giggle and cups the sides of his face in her palms. "You taste like raspberry-coloured clouds." She announces reminding him that she's not fully in control of herself at the moment.

Pulling himself together mentally he heaves a heavy sigh and eases back down onto the bed. She's going to stake him once she sobers... after she yells at him and gives him that slap he'd been expecting before. Remorse does not sit well with him.

Sliding the pad of her thumb over his lower lip she effectively wipes the very last remnants of herself from his mouth. "What do I taste like?" She questions with her dilated pupils trained on the ruby-red liquid coating the pad of her thumb.

"Like acceptance." He blinks a few times to clear his mind and take in the words that slipped through his lips without thought. It was the general whole of what he'd felt. It's not a feeling he's particularly familiar with, nor were the others he'd felt. In fact most of them aren't discernible to him because he's **never** felt them before.

He watches as her whole being perks up and her smile ignites a flame behind her eyes. "Really?" She asks with a mixture of hope and disbelief tingeing her voice, before she licks the remnants of blood from her thumb.

He nods while studying her smooth tan skin still smeared with his blood. He wants to remember her this way forever; happy, deliciously covered in their mingling blood, with her hair ruffled, eyes alight and most importantly drunk on him.

"That's good, right?" She smirks smugly looking very pleased with herself. There's something in her eyes that makes him think that there's so much more to the question than the innocent words she'd just uttered.

He searches his mind for possibilities, but comes up empty because... really he's just... he's barely keeping it together at this point. "Very." He answers cautiously and hopes that whatever she's up to isn't too bad.

Oh, it must be bad.

Her smirk widens into a triumphant grin as her eyes sparkle mischievously. "If it's good like this then it must be better with a bond." She's high as a freaking kite. She must be. "Is telepathy one of the things? If it is then I hope we get that." She says lowering herself down to rest on top of him with her head on his chest.

He chuckles awkwardly as he encircles her in his embrace. "It's one of the _things_. We'll see about the bonding." He'll straighten this out once she's come down off her high.

"Will it stick after you turn me?" She asks innocently while she traces patterns on his chest with the tips of her slender fingers. He wonders if she heard his heart skip a beat.

It takes most of his concentration to suppress the sputtering his mouth desperately longs for. She can't be bloody serious. His arms tighten convulsively around her. "Turn?" He mutters mostly to himself, agonizing over the fact that he knows she'll not feel this way as soon as she sobers. She doesn't want this life; she never has.

He'd almost, _almost_, forgotten that she's also **always** known how to break him.

"That would be great." She states wistfully not having noticed his increasing panic and fear because he knows she'll change her mind. "It'll be a while though." He can feel her frown against his skin as his deep-rooted hope wilts. It'll never happen. "I want us to look the same age **and** I don't want to have to compel someone every time I want a drink." She giggles and it's instant nourishment to his hope that she'll want this; them one day.

He smiles and buries his face into her dark silky locks. "We'll see, _love_, we'll see." He mumbles into her hair stealing a deep drag of her unique scent.

Scoffing she raises her head up to face him. "You just want an eternally younger girlfriend, don't you?" She glares at him and he thinks his heart might explode out of his chest.

**Girlfriend**.

He can _live_ with that. "So I want **my girl** to be an eternal hottie; sue me." He replies and grins cheekily, earning him a playful slap on the chest and an eye-roll. Even her slapping him in the face couldn't ruin his good mood. Not now.

oOo

**AN:** She's such a junky; so am I... for your reviews that is. Please feed my addiction... btw is there an interest for the fics rating to be upped to M; for sMut? No promises. I've never actually attempted to write real sMut.


	5. talking about truths

**Disclaimer:** TVD belongs to whoever receives the royalties and that sure as hell isn't me. I just pretend while I'm writing.

**Summary:** After all is said and done Damon is about to leave, but decides to say goodbye to Elena before he does. It doesn't really go as he thought it would.

**AN:** Fifth one already? This one sort of spiralled out of control. I swear these characters really don't know much about compliance. Thank you all so much for all the support and in case I haven't answered you're review know that I really appreciate it and that it's because FF has been on the Fritz for me and keeps giving me error messages for pretty much everything I do.

oOo

**talking about truths**

oOo

He's thinking about the way she felt as she writhed her lithe body against his and they drank mouth-fills of each other while she takes a shower in the tiny little B&B that they're staying at. He knows she has him wrapped tightly around her little finger, but he can't seem to care despite the fact that he's sitting in a room that looks like a unicorn threw-up rainbows in it. She thinks it's charming.

"Damon." She shouts from the bathroom. "Is my flat-iron out there?"

He surveys the room, not too thoroughly, not finding the missing appliance. "I can't see it. Are you sure you brought it?" He replies not having moved anything other then his eyes and mouth in his search. She's even more gorgeous when her hair is in wild curls around her beautiful face.

He listens to her unladylike swearing on the other side of the door while chuckling softly. She emerges in a billow of steam in dark skinny jeans and a plum-coloured tank-top, no make-up and untamed hair. It's no secret that she's fuming at herself for having forgotten the unnecessary object.

"You look delicious _love_." He says while doing his eye thing that always manages to perfume the air with her mouthwatering arousal. This time is no different... except that it is. She doesn't roll her eyes or scold him, she simply smiles and leans down to give him a soft kiss on the lips.

He likes this girlfriend thing.

She smirks indulgently settling herself in his lap. "You didn't even look, did you?" Sometimes he doesn't actually like just how well she knows him.

He shrugs and kisses her, just because he can. "It's more you." It's truly what he thinks, her wild hair reflects his favourite side of her; the wild one. The one only he gets to see any more.

Scoffing and rolling her eyes she snakes her arms around his neck. "It makes me look more like her." She grimaces in that way that doesn't convey the disgust it's supposed to. She's so cute.

He huffs and combs his fingers gingerly though her damp curls. "Hers are perfectly curled and controlled; artificial. Yours are wild and free; perfect."

She giggles sweetly and leans into his touch. "You're such a sweet talker." She announces with laughter still evident in her voice. He loves that he's the one that gets to have her this way.

"I've got to keep my girl happy." He winks and snakes his arms around her tiny waist. He can't seem to stop himself from declaring that she's his every few sentences. "She'll only listen if it's the truth." She fits so perfectly.

Rolling her beautiful big brown eyes and poking him in the ribs she pretends to not be flattered, but he can tell that she is. "You're incorrigible. I want pancakes." He might have to feed her something other then desert, breakfast and _blood_ soon. Malnourishment is not an option.

"I'll be quick and then we can go." He says before stealing one last kiss and tossing her onto the bed, earning him a pillow thrown at his head as she giggles uncontrollably.

It only takes him five minutes to shower, shave and dress. Vampirism has its perks. "No fair." She groans when he abruptly stops and swings their room door open after having sped in a blur around the room.

"I thought you were hungry." He says as she slips her hand in his and entwines their fingers. Her small hand is so warm and fragile making his hand seem so big and strong. It just fits.

They find an empty table in the overwhelmingly brightly coloured breakfast area after piling plates full of the buffet. "Your brother is still trying to get a hold of you. If he calls would you talk to him?" She asks as he pushes in her chair.

He makes a face behind her back thankful that she can't see him. It's quite childish, but he just can't help it when it comes to his brother. "Not that I want to, but I guess I should get it over with." He'll just have to get this over with or else the idiot will undoubtedly try to track them down. He should have asked the nurse witch about a cloaking spell... or something.

A generic ringtone sounds and she immediately fishes her phone out of her pocket. "Oh, look at that, it's him now." She exclaims clearly biting back a sly grin. He should have known she was up to something.

"You're evil." He says with a far too pleased grin plastered on his face. It always surprises him that her tricking, outsmarting or outdoing him in any way make him undeniably pleased with her... even when it breaks his heart. Her intelligence is one of his favourite traits and biggest turn ons.

"I learned from the best." Then she says things like that and his ego inflates about a dozen sizes.

The boost she's just given him gets him in just the mood his brother so despises. "The better brother speaking." He singsongs in a way that he knows sets the younger off.

"_What have you done? You can't just take her. You need to bring her back_." The lesser brother hisses so loudly that the other has to move the phone from his ear. _He's_ such an idiot.

He rolls his powder-blue eyes wishing the other could see him do so. "I didn't take her. In case you've forgotten; she has a mind and will of her own." It's like they don't know each other any more... well it's like his baby bro doesn't know him at all. Perhaps he never did.

Another hiss comes over the line. "_Cut the crap. She'd never just leave with you_."

That's what he though... still kind of thinks. "That's what I thought. I guess we were both wrong." He can feel his face contort into a disturbingly pleased grin and he winks at her. "She's crazy like that." She looks confused with her mouth full of pancakes, but he's managed to put a delicious blush on her cheeks.

"_I swear if you compelled her then I'll kill you_." For a moment there he forgot he was on the phone. His brother is such a colossal idiot. If he didn't love the little punk so much he'd have killed him a century or so ago.

"You can try, but you'll have to find a different reason for killing me." He can't help the taunting lilt to his speech; not with him. "Even if you're sipping the people blood, you still don't have shit on me." He almost chuckles as he watches her nervously scan the room to make sure no one's listening. She's so adorable.

Her mouth twists into a sour one and she holds her hand out. "Give me the phone." She demands. He probably should have tried a bit harder to be nice... -ish.

"I have to go now, but _my girl_ seems to want to have a word or two with you." He just can't help saying it all the time; it must be some sort of disease.

"_Go to hell_." He often finds it odd that his brother never really matured mentally beyond the age he was turned. He likes to think that he, himself, did.

He swallows about fifteen nasty comebacks as he is unwilling to make matters worse for himself. "Buh-bye little brother." Well, he'd most likely have freaked his brother out if he'd been completely nice.

"There you go, _love_." He smiles sweetly and hands the phone back to the fuming girl across from him. Damn, he's in so much trouble.

"What the hell. Why are you threatening him?" She forces out through gritted teeth. She isn't talking to him and it's confusing. She's angry at his brother?

_This_ he's got to hear, so he listens in. "_Your necklace is in your room. He's been compelling you_." His brother insists and he's half right. He'd forgotten all about that.

She rolls her chocolate orbs in annoyance. "Don't be ridiculous. He has never and will never ever do that." He's glad she isn't looking directly at him, because he's sure that she'd be able to see the shame rolling off him in waves. He'll have to tell her about that... maybe... some other day... or year.

"_You're wrong. You have no idea what lengths he will go to to get to me_." He's a bit surprised that baby bro is already reaching for the low blows. He must be desperate.

"You self-centred ass hole. This has nothing, _nothing_ to do with you." She hisses indignantly and he wants to invent some sort of dance or cheer for these new and wonderful moments. "He loves me. Besides it was **my idea** to leave with him and I had my necklace on at the time. Deal with it"

Wait. What?

"_Ele_..." She cuts the call with angrily shaking fingers. It's not him she's angry at.

She tosses her phone on the table and clenches her fists repeatedly. "I can't believe him. He's being... ugh..." She mutters and he just stares dumbly.

"Did you just hang up on him?" He finally musters after a long moment of thick silence.

Her head snaps up and she looks slightly embarrassed. "Yeah, I kind of did." She confesses smiling nervously.

He chuckles because she's just so... _so delicious_. "I have a feeling he'll go to Sabrina and have her find us." His brother's pig headed like that. "You do realize she's going to zap me?" He chuckles again as her embarrassment turns into guilt.

"I'll protect you. I always do." She says smugly, obviously teasing him.

He sips his quickly cooling coffee. "Cute, but she still has all that borrowed power." He states with a playful yet pointed look at her. He loves that she wants to protect _him_. He loves it even more when she does even though he hates it when she puts herself in danger.

She looks pensive for a moment biting into that delectable lower lip of hers. "I left a note for Jer, he'll help stop them."

He's pretty sure the kid will do whatever the witch wants; he is after all trying his hardest to get in her pants. "It was a sticky note. What could you possibly have fit on there that makes you think he would help?" Somehow he just can't make himself sully the kids rep after killing him... and maybe he sort of likes the little twerp... OK, so there's no maybe about it.

"Left with Damon. Love always Lenny." She shoots him a smug grin as if whatever _that_ was should convince him. It doesn't.

"Lenny?" He cocks a single eyebrow questioningly. It's kind of cute. Maybe she'll let him call her that. "That's not going to cut it." He continues when it becomes obvious that she's not going to clarify.

She shrugs her slender shoulders. "Jer gets it. I know he does. He told me he does." So maybe she does know what she's talking about.

"So that was him yesterday?" It must have been; he knows she hasn't gotten any other calls.

She looks taken aback as her doe eyes widen. "Yeah, I thought you heard."

"Eavesdropping is impolite." He's been trying to be on his best behaviour after all. What a waste; she hadn't even noticed.

"That's never stopped you before." She throws back playfully. "He said that he was surprised we hadn't left months ago."

"Months?" He echoes. What the hell is she talking about?

"Yeah." She finishes of a mouthful of food before continuing. "He gets it; he always has." She says as if he's supposed to know what _it_ is as well. He totally doesn't. "Even before I did." The warm smile she give him does nothing to clear up his confusion.

"What exactly does he get?" He really hates feeling this out of the loop all the time around her lately.

"That I'd follow wherever you go." She says it as if it's the most obvious thing in the world, but it isn't. Clearly only her and her brother understand this strange _truth_. After all his own brother just called to argue the opposite.

"Would you?" The question is out before he can control the neediness in his voice. What is wrong with him?

She stops eating and does that blinking thing he's only seen her do once before; the one where it looks like her mind is recalibrating. "Of course. I have since we met." She blinks some more and it sort of makes him nervous. "Hadn't you noticed?"

Is she crazy? "No. I distinctly remember you choosing and it had nothing to do with me." OK so maybe he shouldn't have thrown that out there. The reminder might make her come to her senses and leave.

Her eyes dart quickly to the side as if she's physically looking for the reason _he's_ being stupid. "What I said and did were quite different, don't you think?" She replies slowly as if that would make things clearer.

"No." He states dryly with perhaps a little too much force.

She's blinking again and it's enervating to him. "No?" Her bafflement would be funny if it wasn't for the fact that it's him it's directed at.

"No." He restates, managing to reign in a tad bit of the forcefulness.

Huffing indignantly she crosses her arms over her chest. "I distinctly remember begging for your life on several occasions." Now _she's_ angry?

"Oh." He didn't realize. _How_ didn't he realize? Right; his brothers running commentary of his inevitable failure and _her_ lack of respect for him.

She straightens in her seat looking very pleased with herself. "Precisely."

"Hmm." There it is; the pleased feeling he always gets when she outsmarts him... even when it makes him seem clueless.

Piling food on her fork she asks distractedly. "What?"

"I... I never thought of that." He admits because he wants her to have that same pleased feeling he's having. She's pretty good at thinking outside the box... hell, she probably doesn't even have a thinking box.

"Men." She states and follows it up with a bout of giggles.

He can tell that she's feeling it and he doesn't want her to stop so he humours her. "Men?"

She takes a sip of her coffee in the purpose of making a dramatic pause. "You're all clueless." … even when it makes him seem clueless.

He snorts and pins her with a sharp stare. "Clueless?" He challenges playfully.

"Stop repeating everything I say." She huffs feigning annoyance before taking other sip of her coffee.

His crystalline eyes roll before coming back to hers. "I'm not." He's questioning it.

She scowls playfully and points an accusatory finger at him. "Are too."

He refrains from sticking his tongue out at her despite really wanting too. "Am not... what are we five? Most of the time you make little to no sense. That's not my fault." Somehow a sliver of seriousness has slithered into his voice and mind making his good mood falter.

She hasn't noticed it... yet. "You're not paying proper attention then." She chides and glares at him playfully.

Irritation creeps up on him from nowhere and he doesn't really know what to do with it. "I am. You just don't make much sense." He says and then bites down hard on the inside of his cheek in an attempt to reign himself in. He tastes blood and it isn't working.

"Next you'll say that you don't know if I love you." She says crinkling her forehead and he can see that she's caught on now. He never could hide from her... successfully.

His hand clenches around the coffee-cup and he barely manages to stop before it shatters. "I don't." He grind out as his temper flares further. What the fuck is wrong with him?

"What?" She's blinking again and he almost wants to poke her eyes out.

He forces a deep breath and his sudden rage subsides somewhat. "Do you?" He asks reluctantly because he's pretty damn sure he doesn't want to hear the answer to this particular question. He's such a pathetic masochist.

She falls back against her chair almost toppling over. "You must be fucking kidding me." She sputters disbelievingly.

He should have known she wouldn't answer. "Do you?" His mouth clearly didn't get the memo that he was just offered an out. 

"You're crazy. What do you think this is all about?" She throws her hands up and is on the verge of shrieking. Suddenly he feels so very, _very _tired of this endless emotional roller-coaster and he just wants to get off... yes, to all and every way that entails.

He heaves a sigh that only mirrors half of the fatigue he feels. "Like I said you don't make much sense."

"I can't believe you're this thick." She's shrieking and it's hurting his ears.

He rolls his crystalline eyes that suddenly shine with the full force of his age. "Enlighten me then." Already knowing her answer he still says it.

"I don't think I will." She predictably replies crossing her arms over her chest and glaring stubbornly. It's stupid, but sometimes he just forgets how young she really is.

"It'll always be Stefan." He mutters under his breath as he rubs his eyes trying to rid himself of the unwelcome tiredness. Hibernation is what his body wants; he's become an emotional bear all of a sudden.

"What?" He knows she heard him, still she asks. It kind of pisses him off again.

He scowls and pins her with an icy stare. "Your words. The last time I asked you the same question that was your answer. Has anything changed?" He has no clue why he keep asking these questions he undoubtedly doesn't want to hear the answers to because they'll eventually break him far beyond repair.

"You know they have." She hisses with a flushed face. He hates that they're already arguing, but he just can't stop himself... not now when he's started.

He leans closer to her and lowers his voice and tries to not come off as too intimidating. "No I don't. You've never said differently. I can't read your mind so you're going to have to spell it out for me."

It's like the coin finally drops down and her whole person softens. Taking his hands in hers she locks their gazes. "I want to spend eternity with you."

It just can't be this difficult for her to say what she **really** means. "What does that mean?"

"What I said." She replies stubbornly, but at least all traces of her agitation is gone.

He's asked her to be clear, yet he's still asking all sorts of questions trying to get to the one and same answer with all of them. "So what, I'm not bad company?"

"Not what it means." She says begging him to understand and drop the entire subject with her warm expressive eyes. This time it just isn't enough. He... _needs more_.

Entwining their fingers he presses on softly. "Then what? Tell me. I need you to say the words." He's begging and he isn't sure what he's begging her to say, but he needs her to say something. Anything. _Everything_.

"You first." She whispers and her voice falters and breaks. He thinks she just might be terrified. It's all very bitter-sweet and confusing.

He's said all there is to say and still she demands more. "I already went first." He just doesn't have the strength this time; it has to be her.

She fidgets and tries to pull away from him, but he can't let her. "I meant now." Her eyes are downcast and she's still trying hard to pull her hands away from his. It's breaking his heart and she can't even see it.

"No, not this time. It's your turn to spit it out." He can hear the threatening tears in his own voice and he hates it. He hates her. Why is she doing this to him? Why is she torturing him?

She's still refusing to look at him. "Fine." She relents stiffly. Goddamnit he hates her so fucking much.

He lets go of her hands and curls his upper lip in disgust. "I'm not sure I want you to say it when your in this wonderful mood of yours." Again he's offering up an easy way out knowing full well that she **ALWAYS** takes it.

"OK." She says in that impossibly stiff way that makes him want to shake her until her brain scrambles and something other than rubbish comes out of her mouth.

"OK?" He echoes shaking his head knowingly. Of course she took it.

She's still not looking at him. "OK."

"Coward." He says as the familiar coil or anger starts tightening in the pit of his stomach.

Her head slowly rises and she meets his eyes; finally. She looks panicked and frightened... good... she should be. "Don't... I'll say it. Not now. Not like this." She's slowly reaching back over the table gauging his every reaction.

The coil unwinds quickly and he's left deflated and more tired then he's ever felt before. "You're never going to say it, are you?" Girlfriend... yeah, it's not so great after all.

"I am. Let me do it right. Let me say it when I know you'll really hear it." She says and he's dropping into despair. He never should have gone to say goodbye... at least then he wouldn't have gotten the glimpses of _this thing_ he will never have.

"I'll let you have it your way because frankly I'm worried that we're not talking about the same thing." They never seem to be any more. He fears that whatever they had has been lost and replaced by an addiction to blood and an escape form her boredom. The whole life and death thing's clearly made her an adrenaline junky. Why else would she be here?

"We are. Just... can we just eat and not be angry." She retracts her hands, but it feels like there's so much more slipping from his hands.

He sits back in his chair utterly defeated. "I'm not angry. I'm exhausted." It's what he says and it's partly true, the rest of it is... he hates her and he loves her. The part he loathes the most is that he's still watching from afar despite having her right in front of him.

oOo

**AN:** She was supposed to say it, but she flat out refused. I swear that girl is too stubborn for her own good. Be kind and review and I'll see if I can't talk her into it... I think we might be able to collectively peer-pressure her into it, if all else fails.


	6. repairing the rift

**Disclaimer:** TVD belongs to whoever receives the royalties and that sure as hell isn't me. I just pretend while I'm writing.

**Summary:** After all is said and done Damon is about to leave, but decides to say goodbye to Elena before he does. It doesn't really go as he thought it would.

**AN:** So I upped the rating to an M (BIG thanks to **Temptress-Kitten17** and **BadBoysAreBest **for all their support and suggestions) since most of you wanted me to go for it, HOWEVER for those of you that didn't want it you can just skip over it (or skim the dialogue). It's a small part towards the end... there is a very important part at the very end though so... I think I might have jumped in the deep end without knowing how to swim. Anyone know CPR?

oOo

**repairing the rift**

oOo

The silence between them is heavy and neither one of them seems to be able to lift it even the slightest. It's been **days** and it just keeps getting worse... much like his hunger. He thinks it might be time for him to either buy her a ticket back to Mystic Falls or just ditch her in the middle of the night and let her deal with the mess she's made; pretending as if he could be without her. He takes full responsibility for his actions; he always does. But he wasn't the one who insisted on coming along, not that he didn't want her to, so that's on her.

"Where are you going?" She asks suspiciously when he shrugs into his leather jacket and heads for the door of the seedy motel their stuck in.

Honesty; he reminds himself not for the first time since this whole disaster started. "Out for a snack." He replies nonchalantly. The hurt flashing through her eyes doesn't escape him, but he still ignores it. He's good at that.

"Oh." She breathes out before swallowing thickly. "I cou... we... you don't... never mind." She's stumbling brokenly over her words making little to no sense.

He turns back just as he's about to reach for the doorknob. "I'd toss a witty comeback at that if I'd actually understood it." He wants to throw something nasty in her face, but he forces it down and saves it for later... when he's not this hungry.

She bites down on her plump lower lip until the sweet smell of her blood hits the air. "You don't want me any more."She states with so much hurt and pain in her voice that he thinks he might suffocate in the sound of it. "I'm not going to leave." A sudden burst of determination ignites in her glassy eyes. Finally the fire is back and he almost wants to cry.

"OK." He says because it's the only thing he can say.

She gets to her feet and blinks back the unshod tears from her eyes. "I want to come with you."

He eyes her warily. She's clearly misunderstood what he's going out to do. "When I said snack I meant blood... and by blood I mean I'm going out to hunt **people**." He knows he's being unnecessarily harsh, but he's determined not to go back to the bags unless he has to. He doesn't. Besides, he _really_ wants to hurt her for still keeping quiet.

"I know." She replies simply and shrugs into her cute leather bomber. "I want to see." She says with finality that he knows he can't talk her out of.

He purses his lips an gives her one last look before relenting. "Suit yourself." He says swinging the door open and sauntering out.

On the drive over to the nearest local bar they stay completely quiet. He's wondering what on earth could possibly have prompted this sudden interest of hers. It's unbearably hot and he really just wants to ditch the whole thing and ravage her, BUT they have barely touched since their argument. It's driving him insane, especially knowing that when they return to their room there's only **one bed** in it.

"So how does this work?" She questions as they seat themselves in a booth at the back of the "genuine Irish"bar run by a couple from Japan.

He scans the crowd composed of under aged college students and over aged alcoholics."Seduce-feed-compel." He answers distractedly as he zeroes in on a slightly inebriated red head.

She follows his line of sight and frowns as she spots the pretty red head. "Sounds simple enough. So how do you pick them out?" She asks in a deceptively light tone that has his head snapping back to look at her. She's up to something.

He eyes her warily before answering. "Not too drunk, clean and healthy looking." If she wants to know then he'll keep their momentary peace by indulging her. "I shouldn't be long, I already spotted my next meal. Two o'clock; red head."

"The pasty one with the implants?" She questions as her dark eyebrows climb up to her hairline. WTF?

"Yupp." He answers and starts to stand only to drop back into his seat at her next words.

"Jessica Rabbit has crazy eyes." She states it so matter-of-factly that he almost believes her.

With a quick glance at the red head he decides to humour her. "Fine. Blond in the green dress." He says zeroing in on a buxom blond that's spilling slightly out of her dress as she leans onto the bar.

She clucks her tongue as she scans the bar. "Barbie's here with combat Ken." She states pointing discreetly at a muscular guy with a buzz-cut and army tattoos that's approaching the blond.

The name-calling is a bit odd coming from her, but he supposes that he's rubbing off on her... sadly only in his wet dreams. "Short hair in the corner." He says with a slight sigh.

She eyes the statuesque girl with the pixie cut with a frown. "Models are often on drugs, is that safe?" She questions effectively eliminating yet another easy meal. He'd say she was jealous, but he isn't _that_ delusional.

He groans and shifts in his seat so that he's facing her. "Fine, then you pick." He challenges knowing that it'll be hard for her to victimize someone.

"Blue t-shirt watching TV." She suggest because apparently it isn't hard for her.

He turns to look behind him where the TV is instantly spotting the **guy** in the blue t-shirt. "Seriously?" He says with a cocked eyebrow as he turns back to face her.

She hums in the affirmative as she darts her eyes at her chosen victim. "He isn't drunk, looks like he just stepped out of the shower and he has runners legs." Maybe he was wrong, she might just be the tiniest bit jealous.

So he'll call her bluff. He doesn't actually care either way; blood is blood... well, unless it's hers. Damn, his gums are starting to throb. "Fine. I'll be right back." He shoots at her as he stands.

He can hear her shoot to her feet only to plop back down in the booth. Bluff effectively called.

He turns on his heel meeting her gaze head on. "What?" He questions before a smirk slides over his lips.

She recalls the bluff. "I want to see." He almost sputters. He hadn't expected that.

If it's games she wants to play then he's all up for it. He has a century and a half on her;she'll loose. "Did you _want_ to take care of the first part?" He questions waggling his eyebrows for good measure. "I don't think he swings my way."

She straightens up in her seat steeling herself. "Where do you want him?" The seriousness on her face frightens him slightly. He was just going to shake her up a bit and then compel the guy.

He hates her right now so he says. "Ally on the left. Make it snappy." He turns away from her regretting his stubbornness instantly. He loves her **all the time**.

However it's too late to turn back because she's already caught blue t-shirt guys attention. The way he's drinking her in makes him fair game. No one ogles _his girl _without feeling some pain. It's disturbing how quickly she's out the door with the guy. She can't compel after all.

"Come on." He hears her tell him before her nervous giggles echo off the walls in the narrow ally. Now one of them is definitely jealous.

Soundlessly he follows the two of them as his features shift involuntarily. His jealousy is so thick he thinks he might choke on it. He's pinning blue t-shirt perv to the wall by the throat in the next second. He can't do this; he can't make her watch. As furious as he is he wont be able to stop if he starts. "Piss off." He hisses at the guy and shoves him in the direction out of the ally. "This isn't right." He says feeling the blood drain out of his eyes and his fangs retract. The whole thing suddenly feels so _dirty_... and it's not in a good way.

She lets out a long breath and leans back against the brick wall. "Brunette; twelve o'clock." She suggest with a smirk tugging at her lips.

He can't help but chuckle as that familiar pleased feeling settles over him. He's been duped by _her_. "I don't know. Does she fill the criteria?" He questions with mock scepticism as he moves in on her.

"Hmm, good question. What do you reckon?" She's fully smirking now and her eyes are sparkling mischievously. Shit, she's gorgeous.

He leans in hovering over her lips. "She doesn't seem to have been drinking..." He moves to her neck taking a long whiff of her creamy skin. "... she smells clean enough..." He lingers on her side and leans in to whisper in her ear. "... I think she might be a bit on the loony side though."

That earns him a slap on the chest, but she's giggling. "I say; risk it." With that the heaviness is miraculously lifted. Not entirely of course, but enough for them both to breath.

"Lets get out of here before that guy comes back with the cops." He suggests twining his fingers with hers and tugging lightly.

She loops his arm over her shoulder and leans into him fitting there like a jigsaw puzzle piece he didn't know he was missing. "Whatever you want." If that were only true.

The drive back somehow seems shorter and he's thankful for that. He's starving for her and she's only making matters worse by gazing at him longingly... _lovingly_? Her sensual mouth is curved into a soft smile that he suspects mirrors his own.

Once he cuts the engine she's crawling over the seats and settling herself in his lap after shrugging out off her jacket. She's facing away from him and her bottom is pressing deliciously into his crotch. He isn't sure what's going on, but he definitely likes it **a lot**. After he pushes his seat back he runs his hands up her bare thighs grateful that she's wearing a skirt. Distractedly he wonders if she planned this whole thing... wouldn't that be something?

She fixes the rear-view mirror so that they're gazing straight into each others eyes while he gingerly explores her lacy underwear. "Are you still mad at me?" She questions as she starts to swivel her hips slowly at his touch.

"Not mad..." He answers and places a warm open-mouthed kiss on her shoulder. "... just tired." He adds before he dips one hand under the delicate lace. He groans as he wets his fingers between her soaked folds. She's so fucking wet for _him_.

Her head tips back onto his shoulder and she moans in satisfaction. "Good." She says and he's not sure if she's commenting on his lack of anger or his curious fingers. He hopes it's both.

He trails wet kisses up and down her elegant neck. "I want you." He confesses as he traces around her swollen nub with his thumb. Her eyelids flutter closed and one of her hands latches on to his forearm. He's amazed that she's letting him do this to her.

"Then take me." She encourages just as he dips two fingers inside her. Her breath hitches in the most wonderful way in the back of her throat at the intrusion. He'll never get enough of that sound.

He thinks he might be on the verge of self-combusting from the sweet friction she's creating. "There's no going back" He mumbles into her skin as his other hand finds it's way under her top to caress the soft skin of her stomach.

Her other hand joins his under her shirt leading the way to her heaving chest. "Onward and forward." She moans as he lightly tugs on one of her pert nipples.

"No regrets." He orders as sternly as he can muster when her hand retracts from under her shirt and dips down behind her back. He **will** burst into flames if she back paddles now.

"No regrets." She echoes in a breathy whisper and pops open the button of his jeans before making quick work of the zipper. She'll be the death of him.

In the blink of an eye he's out of his constricting jacket and her underwear has been torn to shreds. She yelps and he discards the remains somewhere in the back-seat. "You're mine now." He growls from all the jealousy he's been holding in for _too long_, as he meets her eyes in the rear-view mirror. Her pupils are so dilated that she looks like she's high again... high on him.

She answers by grasping the steering wheel in order to lift her hips. "Show me." She demands while he pushes his pants down letting them drop and pool around his ankles.

He positions himself at her dripping entrance and gazes into her smouldering pools of melted chocolate in the mirror. For the first time since they've met **he ****knows**** that she wants him**. It sets of an array of emotions he can't discern, but he's pretty sure even heaven wouldn't feel this good. Neither say a word as she lowers herself onto him at an agonizingly slow pace. Her knuckles are white from the pressure she's asserting to the steering-wheel and she's biting her plump bottom lip. Then there's that wonderful hitch in her breath again as she grinds down and he releases a strangled hiss.

She's warm, wet, tight and absolutely... "... perfect." He says as his hands roam her curvy little body before they finally settle at her waist. He sets a slow pace that she matches with delicious rolls of her hips at his every thrust.

The windows are all fogged up and she's making the most divine noises as they move together. "I want all of you." She reveals and he isn't sure what she means until she sweeps her long mane over one of her slender shoulders. There's an overwhelming warmth spreading like wildfire in his chest. It's consuming everything in it's path leaving nothing, but the most divine sense of something ineffable in it's wake. He hasn't even bitten her yet.

"Look at me." He demands huskily and she complies, meeting his gaze in the mirror with heavy lidded eyes. He raises one of his wrist to her mouth. "Bite." He encourages and she moves one hand from the steering-wheel to grasp his wrist.

She sucks gently on his pulse point before she speaks. "Whatever you want." Then she's biting down hard on the delicate skin, piercing it with her blunt teeth. He can see the smug smile in her eyes as he feels blood pump into his own at the sight of her. She's a goddess.

He leans in and licks a wet trail from the curve of her shoulder up to the sweet spot just below her ear. "Are you giving me your _word_?" The whisper rolls of his tongue with far too much behind it and he can only hope that she understands what it exactly is that he's asking of her.

Her chest is heaving as she reluctantly retracts her teeth from his bloodied wrist. He wants to protests, but the intense look she's giving him stops him entirely. They sit frozen in place still joined, the only sounds are their heaving breaths and thumping hearts. As always she's caught on to what his words really mean.

She parts her ruby smeared lips and draws in the smallest of gasps. A surge of understanding ignites in her eyes and he can tell that it is about something more than what he just asked of her. The anticipation is killing him and then finally she speaks. "I'm not going to leave." She says it firmly, but so very quietly that he isn't sure that she's spoken at all.

BUT then the fire is back and something in his mind clicks into place reminding him that she's already told him this... and he had misunderstood; her lust filled eyes add with a promise. The promise being far more than the word he had been asking her for. She isn't going to leave him _**EVER**_.

He inhales sharply as his arms tighten possessively around her. That divine ineffable feeling is back

and it's exploding in small bursts against the inside of his ribcage. "You're not leaving." He repeats because... because... because flying pigs are making snowmen in hell.

She lets out a startled high-pitched moan as he starts moving within her again and her head lolls back onto his shoulder and he sinks his teeth into hers. She tugs one of his arms free from its grip around her. She quickly sinks her blunt human teeth into his wrist as his other hand makes it's way under her skirt to tease her swollen nub. He can tell that that divine ineffable feeling is flowing through him and into her only to be returned to him tenfold as her warm essence flows over his lips. It builds and burst; the next one always larger, better until his vision fades in a haze of swirling lilac fog tipping him over and into a rift he didn't know existed.

They're panting, spent and sated. She's curled up in his arms with the most pleased grin he's ever seen grace her gorgeous face. She's beyond anything and everything he ever suspected there could be... she's better. It's utterly ridiculous, but it still is.

She tips her head back and looks deeply into his crystalline eyes. "The moment you told me goodbye the world suddenly came into focus and there you were." As he parts his lips to speak she places one of her slender fingers against his lips to quiet him. "Every single moment, word, look and touch shared flashed in my mind and there you were." The corners of her lips curve upward and her pink tongue darts out and vanishes the remains of him from her mouth. "There you were and I knew... I knew I had to have forever. All other options were gone because there you were." The finger quieting him trails softly up the side of his cheek and she cups the side of his face in her palm. "Here-you-are..." She reaches her other hand up to fully cup his face. "... and I'm-not-leaving."

He leans down and captures her lips in the merest ghost of a kiss. "You've gone insane." He says despite the fact that that _feeling_ is still there and that's more than enough proof that what she's saying is true.

The way she's looking at him makes his insides melt to the point of boiling. "Quite the opposite. I used to be insane; delusional and now my mind is finally crystal clear." She smirks and shrugs her slender shoulders. "There is nothing else."

Just him here and her never leaving.

oOo

**AN:** There it is; the first sMut I've ever written... and to tell you the truth there was only supposed to be slightly angry make-up sex and then Elena just, idk, she just started talking and whatever I had planned went out the window. Please let me know what you think, I'm _dying_ to know.


	7. killing for a kiss

**Disclaimer:** TVD belongs to whoever receives the royalties and that sure as hell isn't me. I just pretend while I'm writing.

**Summary:** After all is said and done Damon is about to leave, but decides to say goodbye to Elena before he does. It doesn't really go as he thought it would.

**AN:** Ick. I've been suffering from a major case of the infamous writers block bug. That thing's hard to get rid off and has left me a bit lacking in the inspiration department. If it weren't for all you lovelies and your heart-warming reviews I never would have been able to beat the damned bug. I **will** be getting to those as soon as I can.

oOo

**killing for a kiss**

oOo

The first thing to tip him off that things have gone horribly wrong is his own heartbeat pounding at a painful volume in his scull, briefly making him wonder if eardrums can be ruptured from within, before his thoughts turn to mush as he clutches his head in a pathetic attempt to alleviate himself.

The second sign of his personal apocalypse is revealed once he finally manages to blink his eyes open and actually focus his gaze. There are dried blood smears and splatters covering the walls and carpet of the already seedy motel room... not to mention that his stark naked body is covered in it. It looks very much like a badly staged massacre in a second rate slasher flick; there's far _too much blood_.

The third sign of his damnation is that he can't for the life of him, or anyone else's, remember what has happened since the heavenly reconciliation last night in his beloved Camaro. Maybe he tempted fate with his thoughts that he could die happy now that he'd had her wholly.

The fourth sign that he's gone straight to hell is the sight of the seemingly lifeless girl laying nude in a puddle of half dried blood face down a few feet from where he just woke up. Her ebony tresses are a tangled mess of silky strands and caked blood. He'd know those long tan limbs anywhere and the unmistakable divine scent of _her_ blood. The scent is so overwhelming and there is so much blood spilled that she can impossibly still be alive. Panic erupts from deep within him cancelling out whatever else he feels, even the mind numbing pain. He's fucking killed her; his girl; his love; his sweet, funny, wonderful, sexy and amazing Elena... **he's killed her**.

He scrambles clumsily to his feet, swaying and stumbling forward in a tunnel visioned haze of anxiety. "_Elena_." He's shouting her name over the loud thumping of his own heart and she's not moving. His fingers frantically search her flesh for the tell tale beat of her heart. Finally the tips of his fingers find the inside of her wrist. Tears well up in his eyes and spill over in relief once the first faint vibration of her pulse penetrates his skin.

He's laughing hysterically as she snatches her hand back in order to cover her ears from the disturbing noise. "Not so loud." She groans pressing her palms harder on her aching ears.

Trying to quiet himself only seems to make his laugher elevate. He can't stop laughing and it's beginning to be painful. He doubles over as the laughter morphs into a three way split between a laugh, a cough and a wheeze. Maybe it's him that's dying.

Once the odd sound coming out of him makes its way into her ears she's instantly crouching in front of him with wide concerned eyes. She looks like some kind of warrior goddess with her olive complexion gleaming with perspiration and speckled with dried arterial spray, her body adorned with thick hand-prints of dried blood smeared onto his favourite parts of her. Her beautiful face is framed by wild silky curls and her lips are almost stained black from drinking his blood. Damn he wants her in a bad way.

Her chocolate brown eyes dart down and her dusky-pink lips settle into a smirk as she lifts them to meet his. "I see you've recovered." She states teasingly as she cocks her head sweetly to the side.

He smirks and rolls his eyes at her. "I thought you were dead." He says in form of explanation.

Furrowing her brow her eyes dart down again and he can't help the impossibly smug grin plastered to his face. "What?" She finally says shooting him a bewildered look to which he simply gestures around encompassing their surroundings. "Did we...?" She trails off seeming to be at a loss for words, much like himself so he simply shrugs.

"You couldn't possibly inform me how in the hell we managed to repaint this room?" He says as the painful pounding in his head decides to make itself known again.

She shakes her head slowly as she scans the room. "You don't remember?" She doesn't have to say the "either" they both know is there.

"Nope." He says instantly regretting that he popped the p since that only made matters worse. "I've never experienced anything like this. Since I turned I've never once blacked out and had memory loss... I'm not supposed to be able to loose time." He rubs his hand gingerly at the base of his scull finally alleviating some of the pain. "Fuck, _'Lena_. I'm not supposed to have headaches either. Something is seriously wrong."

She goes ramrod straight as her hands fly up to cover her gasping mouth. "Do you think... it can't possibly... oh, shit... what have I done?" She can't seem to finish a single thought, but he knows exactly what she's talking about.

He wraps her in his strong arms and pulls her onto his lap. "'Lena if you hadn't then I'd be dead." That single statement could be the answer to far to many scenarios, but he knows they're talking about the very same incident.

"Damon." She says in a shaky voice that makes him instinctively hug her tiny body even tighter to him.

He buries his face in her bloodied curls and inhales deeply. She's so delicious. "S'alright love, s'alright." He mumbles into her hair closing his eyes to the mess they've made. He'll most likely have to burn the place down to cover their tracks.

"Damon, wake up." She wheezes, her voice carrying a hint of panic.

He shushes her as he pulls her onto his lap. "I'm up. Don't worry, I'll fix this." He rubs soothing circles on her lower back in that way he knows always calms her heartbeat.

She's panting and he thinks that she might be having another one of those attacks that ends with her fainting. "Open your eyes!" She shrieks breathlessly straight into his ear and now he's sure his eardrums have ruptured.

"Calm down." He murmurs and cracks his eyes open pulling slightly away to capture her gaze. She's NOT covered in blood any more. In fact she's fully clothed and straddling him... in the front seat of his Camaro.

She leans back onto the steering-wheel and heaves a sigh of relief. "Shit. You almost crushed me." She pants and then chuckles softly as if him crushing her were funny and not horribly wrong.

His dark brows furrow and he scans their surroundings. "Was I asleep?" He questions dumbly because what else could _that_ have been.

Her soft chuckles turn into bubbling giggles. "You were hugging me so tightly in your sleep that I almost thought my head would pop off." She does a cute little mini skit of the incident complete with snoring noises and bulging eyes as she makes a popping sound pretending that her head just fell off.

She's so adorable and happy that he can't help but laugh along with her despite the nightmare still lingering in the very front of his mind. "Sorry 'bout that." He smirks allowing his embarrassment to shine through.

She's absolutely delighted by his embarrassment. Grinning widely looking smug as all hell she leans in and gives him a loud kiss. "Tell you what; I might be more inclined to forgive you if you wash my hair." Her grin has turned mischievous and her big brown eyes sparkle with glee.

"Are you inviting me for a shared shower?" He asks far too innocently for her to ever believe he doesn't have devious plans for them.

She huffs playfully feigning chock. "I would never. The audacity..." She says indignantly playing her part perfectly; he so loves to corrupt her... even when it's just pretend.

They've made it out of the car and are waltzing to the beat of their combined hearts in the parking lot. She's giggling and he's chuckling softly because real men don't giggle. It's fun and silly and nothing but the two of them matter. They're dancing and she's still not wearing underwear.

Right. He tore them to shreds. Good job.

He spins her round and round while petals of laughter tumble out of her gifted mouth. "Dip me." She demands just as her fanned out ebony tresses graze his cheek.

He obliges, dipping her low and smoothing a hand up her silky thigh and under her skirt. Her skin is warm and delicious and he really wants to bite her again. He kisses her instead; a hungry open-mouthed kiss that she returns with equal enthusiasm.

They're acting like horny teenagers, well technically she is one, groping each other while they have a very heavy make out session in the middle of the near empty parking lot. He can't help but love the whole sloppy mess.

Her soft warm hands have made their way under his t-shirt and are greedily exploring every inch of his chiselled chest. She's driving him insane with her sexy little whimpers every time he pulls away from her the tiniest bit. It's making their way across the lot take a whole hell of a lot longer then it need be... but he's not complaining. _She_ really fucking wants _him_. This fact isn't inflating his ego, it's genuinely building a solid foundation for it.

His back hits their room door and she presses herself flush against him, sliding her hands everywhere and fusing her plump lips to his. He has a frustratingly had time finding the doorknob and the key and where the hell to put the damn thing. She's so distracting and he wouldn't want her any other way... who's he trying to kid? He wants her in every and any way he or anyone else might be able to think up... and also in all the other ways no one can or will ever think up.

Finally he manages to open the damn thing and they tumble into the room in a heap of tangling limbs... never breaking contact with each others lips. His foot finds the door and kicks it shut of it's own accord. He's far to immersed in her to be able to think of anything so practical.

She breaks contact with him and he groans; it turns into a near growl when he realizes that she did so only in order to pull her shirt over her head... oh-good-god... she isn't wearing a bra and her dusky-pink peeks are mouthwateringly hard and just begging to be tasted.

As he sits up she wrenches his t-shirt rather forcefully over his head. The mix of her lustfully dilated pupils, aggressive determination and soft caressing hands are driving him insane in the most delightful way. She may be a doppelgänger, but the two are identical in very few ways.

He catches a pert nipple in a wet open-mouthed kiss. Swirling his tongue around the delicious morsel he earns himself a rather loud and breathy moan and a forceful tug on his raven locks. Apparently she wants him to pay equal homage to the perky twins. With a smug grin and exploring fingers he obliges gladly.

Had he been human then she would be sitting with a fistful of his dark tresses in between her slender fingers. When he hisses mostly in surprise her lush lips slide into a triumphant smirk. "That hurt." She states with awe. It crosses his mind that she might have been trying to hurt him all along.

He narrows his glacial gaze at her suspiciously as he simultaneously unzips her skirt. His body and mind are still having some communication problems. "Hmm." He simply hums not quite sure what she's up to or if he actually wants to know.

"Aww, I'm so sorry hon'. I didn't mean to hurt you." She says sounding very pleased with her accomplishment before she leans in and bestows his pursed lips with such a tender kiss that it has his toes curling in his boots. He smiles up at her with a goofy grin as she pulls away... wait... what did she just call him?

He wants to ask her to repeat it so he can be sure, but his idiotic male pride is stifling his attempts. He's pretty sure thought that she just called him hon'... or hun, not that the latter would make much sense since his name isn't Attila.

BUT, he forgets all that and anything else when she pulls her blue skirt fluidly up her slender body and over her head and is left sitting in his lap wonderfully naked except for her signature Chucks. She's fucking glorious.

… and not identical, he files away after spotting a cluster of five tiny little brown birthmarks on her upper inner left thigh, before she shimmies down and frees his feet from his boots and his legs from his pants.

"No." He says abruptly as she reaches for the laces of her own shoes. "Leave them on." He pleads because apparently he has a fetish for her feet in those cute little sneakers of hers.

She shrugs and giggles sweetly crawling up his body like a feline stalking its pray. The intense mix of her sweet innocence and her primal sex appeal ends with him flipping them over and pinning her forcefully beneath him. A part of him screams to be let loose to ravage and **own **her, but he swallows most of it down because she's still human and his nightmare is still at the forefront of his mind.

She grins lustfully up at him as she encircles his narrow hips with her impossibly long lean deliciously curvaceous legs. She surprises him when she playfully smacks his ass with the flat rubber sole of her shoe. He actually _really_ likes it.

Oh shit, he truly has a fetish for her little feet in those adorable sneakers of hers. He'll have to get her more of those.

She pulls his hips to meet hers with the aid of her surprisingly strong legs. "I hope you don't intend to just stare at me all day." Her husky voice sends a welcome shiver down his spine as he snaps back from the All Star fantasies his mind distractingly conjured up. It's definitely a thing now.

His answer is to dip down his head and suck on the delectable pulse point on her neck. He wants to mark her where everyone can see that she's his. He can't seem to care how possessive and un-PC that is... and since she's moaning his name loudly enough for the rest of the motel guests to hear, he'll take that as her consent to do as he pleases.

As he slides himself smoothly into her waiting wet heat her head tips back, her back arches up and her breath hitches just as he buries himself to the hilt in her. Tears gather in the outer corners of her doe eyes and for a moment he thinks he might have hurt her. The serene smile gracing her features tells him differently.

That ineffable feeling is already there taking completely over him as it swirls outward until it consume him wholly. His mind has no say in things any more as his hips begin to rock and his talented mouth and hands travel her silky skin coaxing moan after mewl after whimper out of her parted plump lips.

He'll never have enough of her.

"Damon." She moans and there is a feeling that doesn't belong to him that rolls over him in a flash wave of electricity. The intensity of it leaves him breathless and panting. Whatever that was, he really would like a whole hell of a lot more of it.

She locks her nearly blackened eyes with his and he can see that same emotion shine brightly in her eyes and when he devours her mouth he can taste it on her soft pink tongue. It's everywhere and it's delicious and he never wants to stop.

She pulls away panting. "Damon, I..." The sentence trails of as she lets out a breathy purr and suddenly he knows what it is. He knows what she's about to say, but he doesn't want to hear it in this seedy motel as they roll round on the filthy floor in the room of his most recent nightmare. He's a sap and a romantic and freaking fatalist and he doesn't want her to say it here... **not now**.

He bites down on his own wrist and forces it into her mouth as she parts her lips to finish the sentence. He refuses to hear it because... perhaps he's having a minor panic attack because of it.

When her questioning gaze finally manages to pin his down he shakes his head and buries his fangs deeply into one of her firm breasts. He can't do this just yet. He thought it was her that wasn't ready, but it's him. He's such a freaking basket case.

She gives in quickly and buries her pearlies into the grooves his own left. She takes a long deep drag of him and that flash wave of hers runs through him again; slower and far more intense. As it rolls over him and back into her they both climax; he with a choked groan that turns into some sort of incoherent prayer and her swallowing the words she now knows he isn't ready to hear... just yet.

"I dreamt that I almost killed you." He confesses in a rare moment of vulnerability once they've both caught their breaths and the control over their bodies. He generally doesn't offer it up so easily, but after _that_ realization he just had... he knows he can trust her with it. "I had... damn, there was so much blood _everywhere_ there's no way you could have survived it." He says swallowing around the uncomfortable lump quickly forming in his throat.

She cups his face so delicately that it's as if she thinks he's some fragile little thing; like he's easily breakable; he loves that she might just be able to see it. "Hey." She says in a hushed voice. "Look at me." She coaxes and he obliges albeit reluctantly.

He _knows_ that she can see not only straight through him, but also right into his very core. She's the only one who's ever been able to.

"If you had then it would be OK." She says with a soft smile and understanding shining brightly in her eyes and he thinks he might cry if she keeps looking at him like that.

He lets out a disbelieving scoff that he almost chokes on. "OK? Are you out of your mind? Killing you isn't **OK**." She can't just say things like that and look at him that way when she does it. Doesn't she understand that he's a monster?

Her soft smile morphs into a knowing one. "It's not ideal or how I envisioned it, but I'd come back to you. And isn't that really all that matters?" She's still speaking in that soothing hushed tone as if she's trying to force him to calm down and _really_ listen.

Swallowing down his instant panic and need to yell at her until she understands he acknowledges what she's trying to do and allows her voice to sooth him. He takes a deep breath and lets her words roll around in his mind for a while; forcing himself to understand her. "I agree, **BUT **me losing control is not something to take lightly." He finally says surprising himself just how much he's managed to calm down.

They both stay quiet for a moment contemplating his statement. "Have you ever?" She says quietly. "Lost control I mean." She adds trying her hardest to be as clear as possible. It really warms him that she's taken his words to heart and is trying to not confuse him as best she can. She's just so _good_.

He can't help but smile a bit, it's like she's forgotten all his irrational behaviour over the last year. "Yes. Have you forgotten me forcing my blood down your throat or snapping your brothers neck?" He hates bringing these things up, but she needs to remember them; remember what and who he is.

She purses her lips and looks at him in a way that makes it seems as though she hadn't forgotten and that she simply disagrees with him. Now **that** would just be crazy. "Did you really though?" She says with clear scepticism, continuing before he even manages to open his mouth. "Did you really lose control or were you just hell-bent on getting me back?" She shakes her head making her wild curls dance around her face beautifully. "And with Jeremy... you can't fool me, I know what that was. You were trying to flip the switch and failed. There was nothing out of control about it."

Like he knew; she sees straight into his core. He can't hide from her and at times _that_ terrifies him more than anything else so he just swallows thickly and nods.

"Listen carefully Damon 'cause you need to hear this." She says and he almost stops her again before he realizes that it's not _the words_ she's about to say. "When you kill me... stop looking at me like that, I want it to be you." She says when his face hardens into a blank shell at her words.

He shakes his head angrily because frankly he's so horrified that he simply CAN'T. He's **never** going to kill her. She's gone fucking insane.

She presses her soft lips to his so tenderly that his mouth has no other option than comply to it's will. "When I've turned twenty-one, I want you to share blood with me and then I want you to kill me." She murmurs softly against his lips. The hot air of her breath tickling his skin delightfully making what she's saying not sound so bad any more. "It's important to me that it's you that does it. I've seen how fast you are and Jeremy told me that it's next to painless. So if it should happen earlier than that, then it's OK as long as it's you that kills me."

He leans back slightly in order to be able to search her eyes; to see if her soulful eyes betray her. "He told you about that?" She simply nods and smiles sweetly in return with no hint of hesitation. "You want me to kill you and would forgive me if I did so prematurely?" He awaits her answer with dread. He isn't sure what he'd like her to answer and that scares the crap out of him. When did he become this... whatever it is that he is now?

"Yes." She states confidently and he thinks he might cry or scream or something drastic, but then she says... "I'll tease you about it for eternity, but yes, you'd be instantly forgiven." She smirks and wraps her arms around his neck and he just chuckles. She's out of her fucking mind.

oOo

**AN:** I got the idea in my head to write a prequel to this in Elena's pov. It would start the moment Damon forces his blood down her throat and finish the moment this fic starts. Is anyone interested in reading such a thing?


	8. savouring the sickeningly sweet

**Disclaimer:** TVD belongs to whoever receives the royalties and that sure as hell isn't me. I just pretend while I'm writing.

**Summary:** After all is said and done Damon is about to leave, but decides to say goodbye to Elena before he does. It doesn't really go as he thought it would.

**AN:** Hello my lovelies and thank you all for your wonderful comments and reviews. I want to say an extra thank you to all my reviewers that I can't write to personally and especially to **Kat** who's wonderful and thoroughly thought out reviews mean so much to me really do help with my writing.

I've been having some major issues trying to upload and answer reviews. It appears that FF doesn't want me to get things done. It's been driving me crazy, so here's to hoping that this time I'll succeed.

oOo

**savouring the sickeningly sweet**

oOo

They haven't talked about his _freak out_ and he's very thankful to her for that. He can see that she's weighing her words carefully while trying her damnedest to keep the mood between them light.

With a nearly straight face she forces him to inspect a ceramic clown in front of the elderly heavyset woman selling nicknack's at one of the stalls at the market they're perusing. "Damon loves ceramic clowns, don't you hon'?" She coos innocently sending him a devilish wink.

She does that now; calls him hon'.

He hates clowns and he hates ceramic baubles. This particular specimen is gruesome and **she** knows it, but the elderly ladies eyes light up and apparently he's nice now. "It _is_ unique." He says and smiles politely effectively deflecting and avoiding a lie. He's pretty damned good at this.

"It belonged to my grandmother." The large woman informs with a soft smile as she pushes her slightly too large spectacles up her nose.

Shooting the clown lady his most dazzling smile he hands her the ugly little thing. "Some things shouldn't be sold." He says sweetly as she takes the lip-curling thing from him. Why anyone would buy such a thing is beyond him.

The elderly lady holds the little clown reverently in the palm of her hand. "I guess you're right. Some things are just worth more than what you can get for them." She says and he has to agree... which makes his swirling thoughts spin back to his reluctance to let the girl he loves tell him that she does lo... him too.

There's something so very wrong with him... besides the obvious sociopathy and homicidal mania... and well his masochistic tendencies and new-found fetish for Chucks. **OK** so maybe he isn't particularly surprised that he doesn't know how to deal with someone actually loving him back; the real him... but then... does she actually know the real him?

"It's beautiful. I'll take it." He hears _his girl_ say, but doesn't see what the clown loving lady managed to make her buy; he really hopes it isn't that horrendous little statue.

She squeals delightedly and tugs on the sleeve of his leather jacket. "Caramel apples!" She half shouts and rushes off. He's going to have to force her to eat a salad or something not covered in sugar pretty soon or all her lovely teeth are going to fall out.

Once he catches up with her she's already holding two large apples covered in glistening bright red caramel. She hands him one as she digs her teeth into the other, letting out a long moan of satisfaction. "_So good_."

He chuckles at her sugar-junky behaviour and takes a small bite out of his own. It's good, but he's not about to moan. "Not bad." He says and she rolls her big brown eyes at him.

She slips her small hand into his and entwines their fingers. "My mom, Miranda, used to make these for the carnival every year. Hers were better." She says before taking another bite out of the sugar coated fruit. "It's one of the few food related things she knew how to make." She looks down in apparent embarrassment. "It's the only thing besides popcorn that I know how to make and not ruin." It's confusing, but really sweet that she's offering up her flaws and memories for him on a platter.

"I'd like to see you prove that." He teases lightly with a wink and his signature smirk. He's pretty sure that's what he's supposed to do. This boyfriend thing is kind of complicated when it's for real and no one's being compelled to do exactly what the other wants... plus he's a bit distracted thinking about his newest character flaw discovery.

Her whole person brightens and her beautiful brown eyes widen in glee. "Really?" She says her voice full of hope. He reckons he's done pretty darn well this time.

"Mhmm." He hums in the affirmative with a mouth full of overly sweet apple. It's kind of gross actually.

She tosses her half eaten apple, she's only eaten the bits with caramel on them, and wraps her arms around his middle. "So next place we go we should make sure there's a kitchen." Smiling sweetly up at him she tightens her arms briefly around him. He's really loving this PDA side of her.

A kitchen isn't such a bad idea, that way he could make her something healthy and force her to eat it. "I could always just get us _invited_ to _borrow_ someone's kitchen." He says without too much though and immediately slaps himself mentally for his splintered focus.

Waiting for the inevitable scolding he's about to get he tosses the unrealistically red apple. "I guess." She says looking a bit distracted. Clearly, and thankfully, she didn't understand what he just said.

Keeping his cool, he smiles and embraces her around the shoulders. "Next place; I promise." He says in an attempt to smooth over his previous suggestion.

She snuggles further into him making warmth spread throughout him; they fit so nicely together. "Maybe you could make that thing that you made that time that was really good." She mumbles into his shirt as if he's supposed to know what the hell she's talking about.

"What thing was that?" He asks hoping she'll remember that he prefers it when she tries to be as clear as possible and elaborate.

She tips her head back to look up at him with puckered lips. He gives her a chaste kiss before she speaks... he really likes it when she does that. "The tube thingies with the green stuff inside and the meat with the leaves." She seems to be trying to will him to understand... and apparently it's working 'cause suddenly he knows exactly what she's talking about.

"You mean the spinach stuffed cannelloni and saltimbocca?" He says remembering why he'd made her the comfort food. It had oddly enough been while his brother was securely locked away in the basement after having fallen off the wagon AND it hadn't even been _his_ fault it had been _hers_. He hadn't realized they had **that** in common.

She smiles nostalgically at him. "It was the first meal you cooked that was only for the two of us." Her smile slides smoothly into a smirk he's getting very fond of. "It made me feel really special that you did that. It was the first time you took care of me without it being all life and death... or having an ulterior motive. It's what made me realize that maybe you weren't such a bad guy after all."

There's this tingle spreading outward from his heart making everything seem so much better then a mere moment ago. He hadn't realized how important the simple gesture had been to her... to him. Shit. She probably wouldn't have given him a second glance had it not been for the simple meal made from genuine concern for her well being.

Spotting a run down tavern on the other side of the street he decides that it's time to coax her to eat something that doesn't resemble desert. "All this talk of food is making me hungry." He says untruthfully, but it being for a good cause leaves him guilt free.

"I could go for a burger." She says disentangling from around him to settle at his side. It's not what he had in mind, but it is a step up from the sugar laden treats she's been wolfing down.

With an arm slung casually over her shoulders he steers them toward the tavern. It's a rustic looking thing that must have been built back in _his_ day... back when he was human that is.

He feels her stiffen and shift nervously next to him when they enter so he turns to find her looking uncharacteristically uncomfortable. "Why is everyone staring at us?" She whispers under her breath so quietly that only his excelled hearing can pick up what she's saying.

To his surprise he realizes that everyone in the small establishment is indeed staring blatantly at them, some with curiosity and others with obvious chock. He really hopes for Elena's sake that her seemingly identical, he knows better though, ancestor hasn't made an _impression_ on this town before.

He gives her a reassuring squeeze and slides a polite smile over his lips as he pulls her along towards the bar. "Well hello there. Is the kitchen open?" He asks the gawking twenty-something man behind the bar.

The man with skin the colour of a scolding hot cup of cappuccino, rakes his bright amber eyes over the features of the raven haired man before locking his disbelieving gaze with the faux innocently blue eyed one the other is sporting. "You're him." He exhales the thought below a whisper.

"Sorry, I didn't quite catch that." He states having heard exactly what the bartender had uttered. Damn, it's him that's been here before and **clearly** he made himself well known when he was here.

The guy doesn't answer verbally, instead he just points to the other end of the bar without taking his eyes from the newcomers familiar face. There are frames hanging there and with discomfort settling in the pit of his stomach the couple make their way over there to inspect and determine the amount of damage control they'll have to dell out.

The instant he spots the black and white image of himself seated at the piano that's still sitting next to the bar he knows where he is. He breathes out a sigh of relief. "Look 'Lena, it's my great grandpa." He shoots her a meaningful glance knowing she'll know what to do.

"WOW! Your nana really wasn't exaggerating when she said that you got his looks." She says with very believable interest. "When did he live here?" She adds with genuine curiosity sparkling in her big doe eyes.

Shrugging lightly he scrunches his dark brow in thought. "Early 1900's, I think." He says knowing full well the exact dates of his arrival and departure from this armpit of a mining town.

"1913 to 1919. He was only here for six years, but he had quite the effect on this town." The bartender offers with his gaze still glued to the vampires. "He turned the town upside down when he showed up here to take care of the Bennett orphans. Raising those three as if they were his own blood."

She looks up at him with amusement and adoration all over her divine features. "I guess that protective and nurturing steak has always run in the family." She states with a knowing grin as if she's caught him in some sort of lie. She hasn't; he never said he was bad _all _the time.

"Oh, you have no idea." The amber eyed barkeep smirks and saunters over to where they're standing. "**Those** are the Bennett kids he took as his own." He says pointing to a picture of a girl and boy in their early teens and a boy no more then ten. They all bare obvious resemblance to her childhood friend with the same last name. "Need I remind you that despite slavery being abolished, segregation was flourishing."

Rolling his crystalline eyes in annoyance and perhaps a bit of discomfort he scoffs. "You say it like it's a big deal." He's not used to people knowing about that side, that weakness, of him and it makes him feel distinctly uncomfortable.

"Isn't it?" She says with a furrowed brow as her brown eyes dart from one man to the other.

The informative bartender purses his lips and seems to be sizing the two others up. "It was, still _is_ a big deal to my family. That right there..." He says pointing at the teen boy in the picture. "... that's _my_ great grandfather"

And suddenly the vampire feels like a complete idiot for not having noticed the resemblance. The man is quite a few shades lighter, but his build and eyes are identical to his forefathers. "Wait, you're Dom's great grand kid?" It slips out before he manages to check himself and a knowing smirk that is eerily familiar slides over the man's lips.

The other offers his hand with a brow quirked in defiant challenge. "Name's Dominic Damon Saviour. My namesake stayed and got married. He changed our last name after _you_... r great grandfather left with his siblings."

Oh bloody fucking brilliant; another freaking spiteful Bennett.

Smiling and pretending to not understand the double meaning behind the guys words he grabs his hand and shakes it vigorously. "So we're almost family then. Damon Salvatore." He states cheerily receiving a sharp elbow in the ribs from his curiously quiet girlfriend.

"Aww... you're **both** named after him. That's so sweet." She coos and manages to pinch him to the point where it almost hurts. Considering how hard she must have pinched he's surprised she hasn't winced in pain herself.

Wait. His name was what?

In his irritation over his idiotic slip he'd not really been listening. "What?" He says dumbly glancing between the two. Really, it's his own fault for being so scatterbrained.

Smiling sweetly up at him she snakes an arm around his middle in an affectionate way that has him turning to puddy. "Dominic **Damon**** Saviour**." She restates slowly making sure that he's taking in every syllable.

Oh. He'd be blushing but...

She turns to look at the might-be witch on the other side of the bar. "The Bennett's back home aren't quite as fond of the Salvatore's as you seem to be." She says sounding oh-so innocent... she's fishing and it's kind of turning him on. He likes it when she gets all sneaky.

The amber eyed _Saviour_ smiles knowingly. "I'm told Lydia, my great grandaunt, could hold quite the grudge. She didn't approve of Damon's _drinking _habits." Chuckling he points to another photograph of the makeshift family with Lydia unknowingly wearing her heart on her sleeve. "I think the poor girl had an unrequited crush and grew resentful that it was never met."

He'd had his suspicions back then and made it clear to the pretty and annoyingly self-righteous girl that he wasn't interested, but it did make more than one thing clear up in his mind.

"It's that Salvatore charm. It has girls falling all over themselves." _His girl_ states shooting him a lusty gaze from under her lowered lashes. "I should know." She adds with a wink full of naughty promises that make him want to ravish her on the spot. Damn he's lucky.

Grinning brightly at the two the amber eyed man says to them with clear amusement. "He was infamous for it around these parts. Taught my great gramps a thing or two about wooing women. It's all reverently been passed down." He winks at the olive skinned beauty and smirks in that eerily familiar way.

"I see it." She says playfully making him realize why that smirk is so familiar... it's a variation of his own signature smirk. It's quite devilish and very effective.

"How long are you staying in town?" He asks, but continues before either can muster up a reply. "The rest of the family would _burn me at the stake_ if I can't get you to stay and meet them as well." So clearly they're also witches. He wonders if he'll ever get used to it... witches liking him that is. Maybe they wont.

The two stay quiet waiting expectantly for him to answer. "We're not really on a schedule." He replies with a shrug and a questioning look at his girl.

"It would be nice to meet some of your family since it'll be mine too one day... I hope." She says in the way of an answer and he thinks he might faint. It's absurd of course, but he just might fucking faint.

There's this undefinable, but utterly delicious feeling clawing it's way through him and he has to force himself to breath in order to keep from... well, he doesn't know what the hell from since he's too busy freaking out. What is wrong with him all of a sudden?

"Brilliant! How about dinner tonight?" Dominic asks excitedly and he can't manage to say anything so he just nods.

She takes over completely and hashes out the details once she's noticed that he's mentally checked out. He's thankful to say the least and obviously embarrassed. There's no way he would have stopped in this town had he realized _what_ town this was.

Without getting anything to eat she drags him out of the small tavern and out into the busy street. "Damon, honey, are you alright?" She says once they've merged with the stream of people.

"I'm fine." He remarks offhandedly not fooling anyone with his vacant stare and emotionless reply.

Stepping in his path effectively making him come to a stand still she cups his face delicately in her small hands. "We can skip the dinner if you don't want to go." She says and smiles warmly up at him with understanding shining clearly in the depths of her chocolate gaze.

Letting out a tired sigh he wraps his arms tightly around her slender waist as he leans into her gentle touch. "It's not that. I..." He isn't actually sure what **it**__is, but there is something. He just stands there in the sea of people with her in his arms as he contemplates. She waits patiently.

Maybe... _maybe_ he needs to be sure that she knows _all_ his sides before he can hear **it**... maybe he made his way here on some subconscious level in order to begin this faze of the road they need to travel before she can truly decided... before _he can believe_ that she can make an informed decision... maybe there are a few other stops they need to make before they can head for where he's longed to bring her before he even knew she existed... maybe... he really does want to bring her **there**...

"There are things I _need_ to show you; to tell you and I don't know where or how to start." He finally manages to say awkwardly.

She studies him for a moment chewing on her plump lower lip as she does so. "OK." She says slowly as she narrows her eyes slightly. "Start here." She quickly catches herself as she spots the beginning of a scowl at her vagueness. "Start with what just went through you're head just now."

"An epiphany." It's apparently his turn to confuse her and he's doing a good job at it by the look she's giving him. "There's a lot you don't know about me and I need you to know those things before you go making any other... _declarations_." He announces surprising himself that he actually managed to formulate the thoughts swirling in his head.

She lets out a breath full of relief that catches him off guard. He hadn't realized just how worried about him she'd been. It makes him feel like a hot puddle of... well, something hot and liquidy... a hot puddle of syrup. There are so many things wrong with him and that statement so there is just no point in lingering on it.

"I'm all ears and eyes Damon. Take your time; I'm not leaving." She says sweetly before giving him a chaste kiss that quickly spirals into something very different.

A warning bell in the back of his mind is set of and a voice questions if she truly grasps the concept of eternity. He's always been able to, but he knows that it's a far fetched thing for most. He's even found a way to not go completely insane with all that time on his hands. The trick is to live like there is no tomorrow, but planning for it anyway while keeping in mind that you're still responsible for your own actions... **only your own actions**. It's banal, but it works. It's why he's in control and not a ripper... he never could get his brother to understand it.

With all that in mind he swiftly drags her at near preternatural speed through the throng of people in order to have his way with her... no tomorrow and all that.

oOo

**AN:** Please feel free to leave a comment; you know how much I love them. Check out the first chapter of the prequel to USG which is called **Unwillingly Succumbing to Truth**.


	9. testing new turfs

**Disclaimer:** TVD belongs to whoever receives the royalties and that sure as hell isn't me. I just pretend while I'm writing.

**Summary:** After all is said and done Damon is about to leave, but decides to say goodbye to Elena before he does. It doesn't really go as he thought it would.

**AN:** I apologize for the long wait, but there has been such a severe decline in readers that I've been considering how to cut this fic short without copping out completely. I'm thinking I might be able to round things off in a chapter or two. SO a super special thank you to all of you that have stuck it out this far and I hope you stick with me a little longer still.

oOo

**testing new turfs**

oOo

He shifts his weight from boot clad foot to boot clad foot uncomfortably as they wait for someone to get the door. It's mere seconds, but in that time he manages to get it in his head that this is all a set-up and that the witch and his brother will come flying out of the woodwork and smite him down... he might be slightly on the paranoid side, BUT that's what's kept him alive and one step ahead for his unnaturally long life.

"If you don't want this then we can just bolt." She whispers having read him perfectly.

He opens his mouth to speak just as the door flings open and people begin to spill out and surround them before they begin to hug and kiss the pair while cackling loudly. It's all just a sea of milk chocolate bodies blurring and voices meshing together. He's getting dizzy from the overwhelming crackle of magic in the atmosphere and the thick scent of Bennett witches suffocating the air.

His gorgeous girl steps protectively in front of him pressing her back flush against his front. With a loud sharp whistle she effectively shuts up the assembled crowd. "Not to be rude, but you're all kind of freaking me out." She says grinning broadly earning herself soft snickers from the group. "Since there are _clearly_ no pretences then... yes, I'm Elena Gilbert the _other_ doppelgänger and this is **the** Damon Salvatore."

"Pay up!" A very handsome middle-aged man wearing horn rimmed glasses says as he punches a taller spectacle free version of himself on the shoulder.

The taller groans making a face as he pulls out his wallet from his back pocket. "You two couldn't have shown up next year?" He says with annoyance pulling out two fifties and handing them to the gleefully grinning man.

"We could always leave." The vampire deadpans closing himself off fully from the onlookers. He thinks that might be his next best idea of the day... or third.

There's a thick silence that follows his statement and _she_ turns slowly to face him. Her large doe eyes search his face carefully. To the world he seems unreadable, but he can see her taking everything in as her lips slowly slide into a soft smile and she reaches up and cups the side of his face tenderly.

The world around them seems to fade away as he leans into her touch and his crystalline gaze locks with hers. A warm breeze goes through him and fills him with a deep sense of calm. It's all her doing... he hadn't expected their bond to manifest so quickly.

She shoots him a mischievous wink before she withdraws her hand and turns towards the staring crowd. "So do we need to start killing people or is someone going to invite us in?"

She said **we**... his demonic side purrs in delight at her words. He definitely likes the sound of that. In fact his gums are throbbing at the mere thought of the two of them tearing through the country leaving a ruby trail of carnage in their wake. **That** part of himself, he isn't looking too much forward to sharing with her; it's most likely where and why he'll lose her.

As the intoxicating thoughts of the carnage they could cause flit through his mind, he notices a minuscule quirk of her head. He isn't sure what it means, but maybe she felt that and he's quite sure that **that** would be a bad thing. A fucking disaster of epic proportions. Perhaps it's time to flip the switch partially... if he can.

"_Don't." _It's _**her**_ voice that whispers softly in his mind and his façade almost cracks from the shock. She couldn't possibly have... _"Don't." _The word echoes and bounces around in his mind again and he's sure this time that it's her.

Everyone is chuckling around him so he cracks a smirk just in case. In truth he's freaking out that she's in his mind. **SHE'S IN HIS FUCKING HEAD!** The instant he's thought it a feeling of something he can't quite put his finger on floods him, leaving him feeling sated and almost high. She's friggin' everywhere... it's delicious... and now he's just grinning like a love drunk idiot.

"Please come in." A petite woman in her mid sixties with slightly greying hair says smiling warmly at them.

_She_ slips her tiny warm hand into his and gives it a tug. Still grinning goofily he follows her over the threshold and into the small brick house wondering how the hell all those people could possibly fit in there. They don't, he realizes as he watches people spill out into the backyard to make room for all of them.

How many freaking Bennett's... ugh, _Saviour's_ are there?

It's like he isn't himself and yet he's never felt sharper and more alert in his life. It's such an odd feeling, like he's more him yet not at all. He's being _nice_ to everyone and talking and laughing and making conversation... and EVERYONE likes **him**. Hell, he likes himself like this, he's fucking awesome.

Then there's **her** looking at him with those beautiful brown eyes of hers all lovie-dovie. She laughs and smiles and shoots him secretive looks filled with all sorts of naughty promises that he can't wait for her to make good on. Shit, the girl is a damned temptress of the highest order.

"Dinner's ready!" The same petite woman that invited them inside shouts over the assembled crowd and they all start moving towards the back of the house.

His girl slips herself under his arm and snakes her own around his waist. He just can't get over the delicious feel of her body pressed up against his. "Look at that. You didn't even have to get us _invited_ to _borrow_ a kitchen to get ourselves a home cooked meal." She says accompanied by a mischievous wink in his direction.

His eyes widen to the point where he thinks they might actually pop clean out of their sockets. Had she really understood him earlier and NOT freaked out or gotten angry at him for suggesting it?

The sweet sound of her chuckles tell him that yes, she understood. "It's not like anyone would have gotten hurt in the process." She answers his unasked question... although considering she'd been in his head earlier she might have picked it up before his mouth could form the words. Damn the girl is amazing.

"You're OK with that?" He asks hesitantly, because he hasn't known her to be OK with him rummaging around in peoples heads... well there was that time and the other one and... OK so on occasion she's been fine with it, but not very often.

Shrugging her slender shoulders she gives a far too innocent smile. "I'm kind of looking forward to being able to try it out myself." She says and now the demon in him is doing some kind of happy dance in his chest stomping so rapidly on his heart that he could be mistaken for someone still fully alive.

He smirks and lets his crystalline eyes dance in that way that he knows drives her crazy. "Really now? What in particular are you looking forward to try?" He asks huskily as he watches her pupils quickly dilate making her eyes seem almost black with desire for _him_.

They're interrupted by the bartender from earlier before she can answer. "I'm glad you two made it." He says directing them to the head of the long middle table of three lined up in the backyard, placing him at the head and her to his left. He chuckles internally; had this been back in his day than this would have meant he was head of the family and she his missus. The thought tickles his mind and he realizes that maybe he wouldn't mind if that were true.

Teresa, the elderly lady that invited them in, clinks her glass and everyone quiets down. "I just wanted to tell the two of you, Damon and Elena, that we're thrilled that you decided to grace us with your presence. I know Dominic would have been delighted to know that his predictions of your return were true and hopefully you feel as though we are your family as much as we think of you as ours." A murmur of agreements ring throughout the crowd before she continues. "As long as there are Saviour's, you have family and a home. Welcome!"

"Welcome!" They all chorus and raise their glasses in salute before drinking. It's all very romcom-y or maybe like a not as funny as it's supposed to be spoof on his life.

He doesn't really know what to make of the whole situation never having been in one of these before. Smiling he looks to his side searching for some sort of reassurance from the beautiful girl next to him. She's smiling blindingly at him as she raises her glass to clink with his, which he's apparently holding up.

The fragrant taste of a well aged red wine mingled with the sweet taste of blood hit his tongue unexpectedly as he tips the glass to his lips and sips. He blinks in surprise and unceremoniously sticks his nose into the glass and takes a deep inhale. Yepp, it's blood alright... human blood.

"Sorry, did I get the proportions wrong?" A gangly boy no more than fifteen asks looking decidedly nervous where he sits two seats down on the right.

He surveys the scrawny thing with a furrowed brow. The kid kind of reminds him of the younger of the Gilbert's siblings when he first met him; he's very emo. "You mixed this?" He questions pointing at his glass. Why the little twerp was the one handling alcohol and blood for the undead guy doesn't sit too well with him... and THAT not sitting well with him **does not** sit well with him.

The boys lime green eyes study the vampire hesitantly before he answers. "Yes, my mom's the one who got the blood, but she's working so I brought it. She's a doctor and my uncle Dominic said it was OK."

"It's better than OK kid, it's great." He says with an appreciative nod before he gulps down a large swallow of the delicious concoction. It's going to be a thing now, he's sure of it.

The kid grins broadly making his unusually green eyes sparkle and puffs up his chest slightly. "It's two thirds AB negative and a third of the wine with the gold label with about a spoon of apricot snaps. All room temperature; shaken." He says proudly clearly having come up with the concept himself.

"Did you say negative?" His gorgeous girlfriend suddenly interrupts as she distractedly fiddles with her cellphone while simultaneously shovelling mash potatoes into her mouth. Finally she's eating actual food.

The kid nods in the affirmative seeming to have lost the ability to speak once he lays his eyes on the stunning girl.

"Do you have a name for it?" She asks and it's all getting a bit odd.

"Donor Delight." The boy replies shyly making both the vampire and his doppelgänger chuckle.

"Care is just gonna _love_ this." The brunette says between chuckles as she texts at lightening speed. "I'm Elena, by the way." She says reaching over to shake the boys hand once she's finished with her text.

With reddening cheeks the dark haired teen shakes her hand. "Mihailo." Obviously the kid likes _his girl_, but then again doesn't everyone?

"Nice to meet you Milo." He says sipping his drink and offering up his own hand to shake. The boy takes it hesitantly as he tries to suppress a scowl.

Surprisingly she pokes him in the ribs making him turn to her with a dark brow quirked questioningly. "He does that when he likes people." She says pointedly to the kid that instantly brightens up. Does what?

"_'Lena_?" He says urging her to go on and explain just what this thing is that he apparently does when he likes people. He isn't particularly fond of the idea that he seems to have some sort of tell that he isn't aware of.

She chuckles sweetly and gives his side a little affectionate nudge. "See?" She says to emo boy and he nods as his lips slip into a pleased smile. "You shorten peoples names hon'." She says when he still looks just as confused.

He almost spits out a heated denial, but he reluctantly has to face the fact that he actually does that so instead he just rolls his perfectly blue eyes and smirks.

Suddenly he feels a pang in his chest... an uncomfortable tightening as images of the people in his life with their names conveniently shortened swim in his mind. OH-GOOD-GOD... he actually _misses_ them. There's a sudden inexplicable urge to have a guys night talking smack, drinking bourbon and... fraternizing with friends?

It's this damned emo kids fault for reminding him of baby Gilbert which inadvertently leads him to think of the rest of them. What the hell happened to being a lone wolf... vampire?

That's not it though, he's always had friends, admittedly some severely lacking a moral compass, so it's something more... it's... they're... goddamnittofuckinghell... he misses his fucking family.

He shoots to his feet abruptly not entirely sure what he's about to do. "It... I... damn it." He sort of stutters gazing at his fondly ginning girlfriend with wild eyes.

She chuckles far to amusedly for his overly emotional state to handle properly. "Tell Alaric I said hi." She says tossing her phone to him which he of course catches.

She's in his god damned head again and he sort of wants to tear his fucking hair out by the roots. Apparently she understands what's going on in his mind better than he does and it's driving him mental. How in the hell is she able to do that and not him when he's the undead one?

At the instant he thinks it she shoots to her feet and grabs his hands looking very worried which kind of pleases him. "I'll stop." She says squeezing his hands reassuringly. "I'll try to... I'm not really sure how this works." She adds with a sheepish smile that instantly chips away at his hysteria.

She's not doing it on purpose which is strangely reassuring... wait... does that mean that he's projecting?

Experimentally he puts up a very solid mental barrier and tests it out. _"Can you hear me now?"_ He almost chuckles at the ridiculousness, but she is standing there looking just as worried as she was mere seconds ago. He let's the barrier slip and tests it out again. _"Tell me if you can hear me."_ He demands this time.

"I hear you." She says giving him an odd look and this clearly means that he's the one that's been doing this all along... he just didn't know it.

Grinning sheepishly back at her he gives himself a mental slap on the back of the head. "Sorry. Turns out it's my fault... oops." He says sounding far from sorry.

She rolls her warm brown eyes and chuckles."Thank god. You were driving me crazy with thinking of..." She trails off glancing at the little emo boy unabashedly listening in on their conversation. "... you know what every other second." She finishes with a delicious blush staining her cheeks.

He can't help himself and his wayward mind though; the girl is mouthwateringly tasty. "It's your own damn fault for... well, being _you_." He retorts dumbly because he's too busy thinking of ravaging her once more to be able to come up with anything witty to say.

Shivering slightly she lets out a strangled breath as the delicious scent of her perfumes the air. "I thought you said you have a handle on this." She says looking decidedly flushed and perhaps a tad worried as well.

This projecting thing is pretty awesome.

He smirks delightedly and waggles his dark eyebrows. "I do." He informs cheekily before he turns and swaggers back into the house to make that call to good ol' Rick.

This is going to be so much fun.

oOo

**AN:** Let me know what you think of this chapter and feel free to request that I tie up specific loose ends that you're wondering about. I heart the lot of you! Review!


	10. memories on the motorway

**Disclaimer:** TVD belongs to whoever receives the royalties and that sure as hell isn't me. I just pretend while I'm writing.

**Summary:** After all is said and done Damon is about to leave, but decides to say goodbye to Elena before he does. It doesn't really go as he thought it would.

**AN:** It's late, or kind of early, and I'm still a bit tipsy after a long night of dancing, but I had the sudden urge to write after a terrible and seemingly endless time of writers block so here goes... OH! And I totally love you all to tiny little heart shaped pieces!

oOo

**memories on the motorway**

oOo

He's driving and she's filling his brand new cellphone with both old and new numbers from her own phone. She'd been impossibly pleased when he'd declared that he was an idiot for leaving his phone behind and that he needed a new one.

For some reason he hasn't told her yet about his little black book of helpful contacts. There's something that tells him she might just flip when she does... and that it might be for reasons he doesn't understand and possibly never will. Either she'll be ecstatic or she'll be furious. There's this new side of her that he doesn't really get and he absolutely loves her even more because of it... however that's possible.

"Do you want my dads number?" She asks chewing on her plump lower lip.

A while ago he would have laughed at her for asking that question, but that was then. "Yeah, I need that." He says immediately without a second thought.

"You _need_ it?" She questions incredulously with one perfectly groomed brow raised.

"That's what I said." He replies glancing over at the tan beauty curled up next to him. "If anything should ever happen, I need it... plus he's kind of fun now that we've stopped plotting each others deaths." Perhaps he shouldn't have reminded her of that particular fact... although he can't keep hiding shit if he ever wants her to make an informed decision.

Thankfully she just chuckles and rolls her big brown eyes before she goes back to her task.

No hiding crap was what he decided on so here goes. "When you're done with those there's a little phone book in the glove-compartment; black one." He says before he chickens out which is just so unlike him.

"OK." She mumbles fiddling with his new phone while simultaneously opening the glove-compartment and rummaging around in there. "You have a gun?" She says with her eyebrows disturbingly close to her hairline while she holds his old colt by the hilt as if it were a dirty sock... or a dead rat perhaps.

He'd forgotten about that. "Yepp, won it in a game of cards. Poker I think." He replies ginning as memories of a time so very different from now flood his mind.

She studies it with a bewildered yet utterly cute expression. "When was this?"

He lets out a little huff of air as he shrugs. "I don't know... 1859 or 60 maybe. It was before I went to war." It was back when he was human so it's a bit harder to remember, he hadn't had near perfect recall back then. "I won it from George Lockwood... smug bastard was such a soar looser." He adds chuckling slightly to himself.

This time when he glances over at her, she's holding the revolver reverently in her palm as she gingerly traces the intricately carved pattern on its ivory handle with the pads of her slender fingers. This is the new part of her that he doesn't understand. One second the revolver is something utterly foul to her and the next she seems like she's half way in love with the thing. He just doesn't get it.

"Do you miss it?" She asks still gingerly examining the colt and he's at a loss for what exactly it is that she's asking about.

"_Elaborate."_ He pushes at her mind, smirking teasingly as he does so.

Her head snaps to the side at his invasion into her mind and she rolls her large doe eyes at his childish antics. "Do you miss... being **alive** that way?" She asks a bit hesitantly tilting her head to the side sweetly.

He's genuinely surprised that the thought even entered her mind and he almost wants to cry because no one gets him the way she does and it's so freaking... he isn't sure what, but he feels as if he's about to self-combust.

He swallows down the sudden flurry of emotions just so that he can muster up a reply. "I miss it more than anything else." He half chokes out as his demon tightens its paw around his throat, squeezing it unbearably until he can no longer breathe and his eyelids begin to burn with accumulating tears. He will be made to pay dearly for his blasphemous confession.

He swerves the Camaro abruptly to the side before he looses all semblance of control. He quickly slams the breaks on and cuts the engine before he stumbles out of the car on suddenly shaky legs. It's like he's fucking suffocating and he can't believe how pathetically he's acting in front of _her_. Then again, of course it's in front of her. He'd **never** tell anyone else this truth... and leave them alive... _it_ would **NEVER** allow that.

"Damon!" She shrieks in pure alarm as she scrambles frantically out of the car and over to his side. Great; he's managed to frighten her.

She physically drags him around the back of the car to the safety of the other side. It's so adorable that she's worried that he'll be hit by a passing car... it wouldn't be the first time and he would have been just fine... unlike the car.

"Damon. Honey, talk to me, _please_." She says pleadingly as she strokes his cheeks as tenderly as she can in her frazzled state. "Please Damon, you're really scaring me. What's wrong _tesoro_? Tell me what's wrong so I can fix it." She rambles on as tears start to cascade down her cheeks and suddenly all the... whatever that was is gone.

His ethereal blue eyes ignite and sparkle as a soft smile plays on his lips. "What did you just call me?" He asks holding his breath slightly as he awaits her answer.

She sniffles looking slightly startled. "What?" She finally says lowering her shaking hands from his cheeks to wipe her own.

Locking his hopeful eyes on her teary brown ones he repeats the question. "What did you just call me?"

She sniffles again and smiles hesitantly. "Tesoro." She says, the word rolling softly of her tongue just the way it should.

"Do you know what it means?" He questions tucking a stray curl behind her ear as he draws her to him with his other hand on the small of her back.

She nods shyly before leaning into him and resting her head on his chest. "It means treasure. Did I say it wrong?" She questions tilting her head up to be able to catch his gaze.

He shakes his head slightly before bending down and bestowing her dusky pink lips with a tender kiss. "It was perfect. Why did you call me that?" He asks wondering where this side of her has been all this time.

"Don't laugh." She pleads with an embarrassed smile and he can't help but comply when she's being this adorable. "I think it's fitting. Getting to know you was like this crazy treasure hunt and once I actually dug down where x marked the spot, there you were; my treasure." Once she finishes her little speech her cheeks are a delightful shade of crimson and she's begun to fidget nervously.

In order to keep his promise of not laughing he bites down on his plump lower lip for a few long seconds. "And you thought the soul tether and the synced hearts were cheesy."

Her mouth drops open and she swats his chest. "Damon you promised." She chastises clearly holding back her own laughter.

"I didn't laugh; I teased." He says before he bites back down on his lip and holds his breath. If he's not breathing then he can't laugh.

She erupts into bubbles of laughter as she watches him trying his damnedest to keep his promise. It doesn't last long though and soon enough his stomach muscles are aching deliciously from all the laughter. She's so ridiculously wonderful... and damn it, he wants to keep her for ever and ever... and a bit after that as well.

Eventually their laughter subsides and he looks at her tenderly. "My mom used to call my dad that." He says remembering a time when he and his father had actually gotten along; when his mother had made sure they got along. "They were so madly in love and when she died he just broke. There wasn't much left of him after she was gone."

He's never told anyone this before, not even his little brother. He never wanted Stefan to know that there was a time when their father had been a much better man. Not that he would have believed him anyway. Despite everything the man had done to him he didn't have the heart to sully him to his little baby brother... even when he wanted to rip said brothers heart out... _literally_.

"She pretty much had the same idea, except she said and I quote... you have to dig deep to find your fathers heart, but it's worth it once you get there... when you say things like that you kind of remind me of her." He adds fondly as he hugs her tightly to his chest as they stand by the side of the road, where it's somehow perfect to divulge his secrets and well kept memories.

"Really?" She questions sounding slightly out of breath. "Do you not want me to call you that then?" She adds nervously furrowing her brow slightly.

"You really do and I honestly love that you want to call me that." He answers smiling widely and it hits him that he's been doing that a lot more since this road trip of theirs started. "Come on. It's just a little further and then we'll be there." He says, silently steeling himself for what he's about to do while he seriously contemplates if he's gone utterly mad... most likely; is what he eventually comes up with.

The little further is actually more like three more hours in his beloved Camaro, but that's a good thing since it turns out that she has a lot of questions when it comes to his little black book of useful assets.

With a suspicious frown she asks straight out. "What does the number system beside the names mean? Are _all_ of them women?"

He has to admit that the clear tone of jealousy in her voice really does wonderful things for is ego. "It's their trustworthiness and **no **all of them aren't women... the first one in there is a guy." He says having had an inkling that she might think just that and wondering what her reaction might be.

Jealousy; he kind of likes the way it ignites the fire in her eyes.

She huffs, but looks decidedly more satisfied although she seems to be attempting to hide it just a little bit. "Edric; what kind of name is that?" Muttering under her breath she shifts in her seat.

"Anglo-Saxon I believe." He says absentmindedly as he watches her thumb through the little book.

Scowling adorably the brown eyed beauty flicks her gaze to stare at him. "There's no Elena in here." She says accusingly which unfortunately leads him to chuckle incredulously... which in turn causes the pretty girls scowl to deepen.

"I know." He replies because he does know that there is no Elena in there... she doesn't need to be, but then she looks hurt and pouty and he just can't stand it. _"There is in here."_ He pushes at her making her start the lightest bit.

"_Ass."_ She sends back and he can't help but grin proudly at her for having as good control over their new connection as she has. His girl's a smart cookie, that's for sure.

That's pretty much how they spend those next three hours; her asking questions and him answering in the most wise ass manner he can muster up.

He almost bails and doesn't take the freeway exit when it finally shows up. In no scenario does this particular detour have any sort of pleasant ending so he isn't quite sure what the fuck he's doing here at all... _right_... he's going with full disclosure.

It's a bit disturbing that the sun is high and bright in the sky as the Camaro comes to a stop at the centre of the... town doesn't seem to fit what this has become; what he made sure it turned into.

"This is it." He whispers too afraid of what she'll think of him once she understands what he's done; what he's capable of... of what he sometimes **craves**.

The petite brunette furrows her brow once more and surveys the necropolis of a town he's brought her to. "What is... _where_ is everyone?" She questions and he can feel her emotions shifting as her mind tries to come to terms with _what_ he's attempting to show her.

"Dead." The raven haired monster replies. "Killed... slaughtered." He continues, squeezing his eyes shut tightly in a futile attempt to keep his inner demon at bay.

He can feel her earthy gaze study him as her emotions swirl around them both making the devious creature curl in delight and anger at her refusal to understand; to accept it... _him_.

Now is when the slap comes; when she storms off or demands to be taken home. He's quite sure it will break them both which makes him wonder what the hell he thinks he's doing, but he knows she can never **truly** choose if she doesn't know this part and eventually it'll want to come out and play... perhaps she'll join in on the crimson tainted fun...

"You." She states numbly as she stares vacantly out of the front windshield. "When?" She more demands than asks.

Turning his glacial gaze on the love of his life he silently prays to who ever might be willing to listen. "Does it matter?" He questions softly hoping that her heart is big enough to... or maybe he's hoping it's black enough to not reject him.

Turning to face him her previously numb expression twist into one of pure despair as hot salty tears trickle town her cheeks. "Why?" She whispers curling her long lean limbs into the foetal position.

Tears burn behind his lids and there is a painful stinging in his heart as his mind chants that he's ruined all of it. "Thirst. Pain. Rage... there is no excuse and it's very likely to happen again." He confesses perhaps too truthfully. She'll turn her back on him and never look back now.

As she begins to sob he's reminded that the beautiful girl sitting next to him is no more than eighteen years old. His sweet loving girl is just that; _a girl_. To his utter surprise and delight she crawls onto his lap and buries her tear stained face in his chest. She's **not** running.

Hesitantly he embraces her as she cries and she answers by tucking her head under his chin and sniffling loudly.

"Did you enjoy it?" She whispers in between sniffles and of all of the things he imagined her asking **THIS**__wasn't it.

To be honest, he doesn't want to answer the question because the answer is obviously an ugly one. "Yes." He confirms simply and he can't help but feel immensely relieved when she doesn't leave the comfort of his arms.

Sighing tiredly she rubs her eyes with the heels of her hands. "What was it that you liked about it?" She asks and the conversation is beginning to be bizarre even by his standards... and that's saying quite a bit.

"The blood and destruction." His demon supplies eagerly, clawing at his insides wanting him to squirm in pain for his earlier insubordination. "The power and control, but most of all that I barely felt anything but the overwhelming bloodlust. It's intoxicating." He answers and is so ecstatic that she can't see the distasteful pleased grin on his face from the memory. He'd be disgusted by himself if the mere thought wasn't turning him on so profoundly.

"Will I be like that too?" She then asks and he almost has an actual aneurysm at hearing the question. She still wants to be with him... be _like_ him and with her question the claws hooked inside him release and it seems that all is forgiven.

"Yes, but the thirst varies. No two vampires are quite the same, although all have some level of bloodlust." He really isn't too well versed in these things considering his maker was an epically bad one and pretty much left him to figure it out by his own damned self... _of course the pun is very much intended_.

Leaning away to catch his reluctant gaze she sniffles once again before she speaks. "Will you help me with it?" Her large pools of melted chocolate look frightened for the first time in... since Jeremy... as they desperately search his eyes for reassurance.

He opens his mouth to tell her that everything will be fine, but stops himself once he realizes that he doesn't know if that will be true. "I'll try." He finally says. "The truth is that I might not be strong enough and instead join you." He reluctantly admits while his demon twirls and waggles its tail in delight at the prospect of the two of them wrecking havoc and quenching their thirsts together. The way his demon is reacting to his girl might prove to be quite a hassle to deal with in the future.

"OK." She says giving a decisive little nod as her eyes harden with stubborn resolve. "We'll try our best together."

The purr that escapes him is nothing he can stop in any way. His demon has taken over and is more than a little eager to show the beautiful girl in his arms just how pleased he is with her acceptance of his... _traits_.

She in turn seems to instinctively react to the foul little thing as she turns and straddles his lap, pressing herself tightly to his rock hard chest. She seems to understand that he needs to feel her; to touch her; to fuck her senseless... to own and possess her very being. All of him _needs_ her to show him that she is his despite the darkness within him... because of the dark secrets he willingly shares with her.

oOo

**AN:** Whatever is wrong with this chapter I blame it on the bourbon so that you in turn can write a review and blame it all on me... OK, so in all honesty I'm completely sober at this point and am writing this latter AN after having, well, lets just say my spelling skills aren't at their best after a few.

Reviews are like heart shaped candies for the soul... can you tell that my sweet tooth's acting up?


	11. a cottage with a kitchen

**Disclaimer:** TVD belongs to whoever receives the royalties and that sure as hell isn't me. I just pretend while I'm writing.

**Summary:** After all is said and done Damon is about to leave, but decides to say goodbye to Elena before he does. It doesn't really go as he thought it would.

**AN:** Forcible hiatus is just brutal, but I finally managed to find some time to actually write this down and post it. It's far too late for me to be up considering when I got up this morning and when I have to get up tomorrow – scratch that – when I got up yesterday morning and when I have to get up this morning.

I'm just going to assume that you forgive me for not replying to all your reviews right after I post... I really need some sleep.

oOo

**a cottage with a kitchen**

oOo

They're both emotionally exhausted after their last stop and he figures it's time to have a little reprieve from the road. It's long passed midnight once he stops to fill the tank and she's sound asleep... regrettably with tear swollen eyes and a puffy nose.

It's there at the gas station that he sees it, the little - for rent - notice stuck to a little cork board at the very back of the little store next to the fridges. He studies the tiny grainy picture for a while before he resolutely yanks the piece of paper off the board and begins to dial.

"_Hello?"_ A sleep ridden voice says that seems to belong to an elderly lady.

"I apologize for disturbing you at this hour, but I was hoping that the cottage you're renting out was vacant and that we, my girlfriend and I, could possibly rent it right away... for a week at least." He says in his best smarmy get-granny-to-like-him voice. Yes, he most definitely has one.

"_It is vacant. Did you mean that you want it as of tonight?"_ The lil' ol' lady, he doesn't actually know that but he assumes, says sweetly.

He grins to himself at his utter awesomeness before speaking. His beautiful girl will be so pleasantly surprised... he just knows she'll love it. "Yes, we should be able to be there in about half an hour."

There's a slight pause. _"All right son. My husband will be at the cottage in half an hour with the keys. I'm afraid the place might need a good dusting though." _She says and he's reminded of why he likes the sweet little old ladies of the world; they like to take care of things... _**him**_.

"Oh, that's alright." He says smirking at his reflection on the glass door of one of the refrigerators. "No one could ever accuse Damon Salvatore of being afraid of a bit of dusting." He coos thinking of the endless hours he's spent tidying up at the Boardinghouse. His brother is such a pack-rat pig.

She chuckles amusedly at his silly answer which all of the elderly female population seem to appreciate... well the sweet sort anyway. _"Well, Damon that's more than most men can say. We'll see the two of you in half an hour."_ She kids and they say their respective goodbyes as he begins to fill a little basket with at least one of everything edible and useful in the tiny gas stations store.

After almost exactly half an hour, give or take a few seconds, he shuts the engine of the Camaro off as he waves to the little old couple sitting on the porch swing of their soon to be temporary abode.

"Wake up sleepy head. We're here." He singsongs nudging her slender shoulder slightly and she grumbles clearly not wanting to wake up at all.

Her eyelids flutter and reveal her deep dark pools of chocolate. "Here where?" She whisper whines which is utterly adorable.

"Come on out and see." He suggests grinning with glee in anticipation of her reaction to his fantastically brilliant surprise.

She sluggishly does so. "Where are we?" She questions rubbing at her large doe eyes as she gravitates to his side so that she can tuck herself protectively under his arm. He really loves that she does that.

"Welcome, Damon and...?" A tiny old wrinkly woman with stark white hair says cheerily.

When his girl just yawns as she snuggles drowsily into his side he feels the need to introduce and tease her as always. "Elena; she's usually politer. You'll have to forgive her since she had no idea what I was up to." As he speaks she snakes her slender arms around his middle making him feel all warm and fuzzy despite the slight chill in the night air.

"How lovely." The little old lady beams at them. Clearly she's the type that goes all gooey over young love.

"Yes, she is." He retorts cheekily, grabbing the chance to make her tan cheeks turn a delightful shade of pink... and of course she doesn't disappoint.

"Well isn't he a charmer?" The elderly gentleman drawls dryly in the typical grumpy old man manner.

His girl chuckles and shoots the old geezer a conspiratorial wink. "It's all just pretend, he's actually quite awful." She mock whispers playfully earning herself a reluctant smirk from the old coot.

"Ouch! You wound me." He huffs with a hand dramatically placed over his heart. He just loves her playful side even when it's him she's making fun of; particularly when it's him she's teasing.

"I have to say that!" She shrieks indignantly at the mock dirty look he's giving her. "Otherwise everyone and their aunt Judy'll want to steal you from me. I can't have that now can I?" She pretend confides, stage whispering out of the side of her mouth. It's all very cute and... GODDAMN he's lucky!

"You two are adorable. Would you..." The little grandma' chirps in smiling sweetly at the two of them as she quite rudely gets cut of mid sentence.

"Don't start now Carla, leave the poor couple alone. I'm sure they're tired and I as well would very much like to get back to sleep." The man grumbles clearly NOT being the sort that goes mushy over other peoples lovey-dovey nonsense.

He can actually relate to the other man's grumbling since he's much the same when it comes to any other couple than _him and her_. "Sorry about waking you, I was just so eager to surprise my 'Lena with an actual bed to sleep in." He says sincerely before bestowing the crown of her head with a small kiss as he gazes at her lovingly.

"Oh?" The old man's demeanour immediate changes as he shares a knowing – take care of thy woman – look with the seemingly much younger man. It's a primitive sort of caveman thing.

"We've been doing a lot of driving lately." He answers vaguely, but he earns himself a small nod of approval from the grey haired man.

"We drove Route 66 during our honeymoon. Chicago to LA. It was wonderful." The man says with a hint of wistfulness in his scratchy voice.

"It was that... although I would have settled for a nice sandy beach and one of those fruity drinks with an umbrella in it." The old woman adds with a hint of a giggle in her voice.

The outwardly older man's face melts and sets into a warm smile as he wraps an arm around his wife's shoulders mirroring the younger couple. "Come along darling and I'll make you one of those **tomorrow**. Goodnight you two."

"I put fresh bedlinen in the upstairs linen closet. Goodnight." The woman shoots over her shoulder as the two slowly make their way to a beat-up old truck.

"G'nite." They chime in unison quite cheesily as they wave at the quickly disappearing truck.

"They were funny." He says grinning goofily holding out the set of keys the man had slipped to him right before the two strode off.

She gives him a funny look that he's come to know as the one she uses when she's scrutinizing something that she finds amusing. "Old people really like you huh?" She asks with laughter tainting her voice. He has to admit that after the day they had it seems ridiculous.

"EVERYONE likes me. I'm awesome." He retorts in his usual arrogant ass-hole-ish way cocking a dark brow at her.

"Hmm... we'll have to change that." She says narrowing her large eyes and pursing her oh-so kissable lips. Fuck she's hot.

"What?" He questions incredulously furrowing his brow at her not quite knowing where she's going with this one.

Her appearance shifts suspiciously to one of serious innocence. "Green eyes just wouldn't go well with my over all colouring." She says as if it were the most obvious answer to his question.

His lips slide into a leery smirk. "Possessive much?" He says doing that eye thing that she used to despise, but now openly loves.

"Very." She answers huskily as the sweet scent of her arousal perfumes the crisp night air.

"I like it." He purrs dragging her along. Suddenly he's feeling a very deep urge to get the two of them into the little red cottage as quickly as possible.

He gets her as far in as the hallway, which frankly is not that far, before her flat tummy seems to growl angrily at them. Right. She's human and needs to be fed at closely spaced intervals.

She shoots him a sheepish grin as the apples of her cheeks turn a bright crimson. He's sped out, emptied the car and raced back before she can even blink. He can't help but chuckle as she stares at him with parted lips making her look sort of clueless.

"_Stop being an ass-hat and feed meeeeee..."_ She pushes at him making that last e ring and echo in his mind until his lips purse in annoyance.

Rolling his perfectly powder blue eyes somewhat amusedly he saunters by her in search of the kitchen. _"Very mature."_ He shares sounding a bit too short with her even in his own mind.

"Not my fault that I'm **barely **legal... " She snarks as she rummages around in one of the small paper bags. "...**gramps**." She adds that last part as soon as she locks gazes with him and then she grins so proudly that he can't help but laugh at how fucking smug she's being. It's all just too damned adorable.

"Well, to make a good meal one needs fresh produce." He teases back, making the gorgeous girl roll her big brown eyes and snort adorably. She really is the cutest little thing he's ever seen.

Triumphantly she pulls out a tub of ice-cream and proceeds to rummage in the drawers of the small kitchen clearly looking for the spoons.

"That's **not** your dinner." He chides in his most authoritative voice as he with lightening speed snatches the chocolaty goodness out of her small hands. She huffs and crinkles her brow in clear irritation... she is after all tummy rumblingly hungry. "I'm going to make you something that isn't laden with sugar so all your lovely teeth wont rot and fall out." He states playfully which luckily smooths her brow and unscowls her luscious lips.

In fact she grins widely and seems to be fully alert. "What are we making?" She questions as she rubs her hands together in glee... just killing him with all her adorableness tonight.

"Let see what we've got." He suggests as he begins to rummage around in the bags knowing full well what they contain, but loving the way her eyes light up as she dives into one of the bags herself where she finds a small bag of frozen vegetables.

"Oh, the green spirally things look nice." She says pointing at the picture of romanesco broccoli on the bags front. "Kinda remind me of cauliflower, but prettier." She adds, still studying the picture on the quickly defrosting bag. She obviously knows jack shit about food.

"Broccolo romanesco." He informs as he considers what else he has and how to get a decent and quick meal out of it.

Her brow furrows slightly as she purses her lips and finally looks away from the frozen vegetables. "Don't you mean broccoli?" She asks as if she's not quite sure if _she's_ saying it right which is kind of hilarious.

He chuckles softly as he begins to rummage around in one of the bags he knows holds a carton of pasta. "Beh, se cuciniamo insieme, lo facciamo in italiano." He informs her sweetly which makes her smile and crinkle her cute little nose at him.

"I have no idea what that means, but I'm all for it." She purrs and saunters closer, her appreciation painted all over her lovely face.

"When we cook we do it in Italian." He explains right before she steals a slow drugging kiss that makes his insides turn to mush... as well as his brain. "Bucatini..." He breathes out holding up what he hopes is the packet of pasta as she pulls away from him. "... from _buco_ which means hole." He adds, although he's still kind of lost in the fog her kiss created so he might be speaking gibberish in all honesty.

"Bu-ca-ti-ni." She mimics obediently and it's one of _the_ sexiest things he thinks he might have heard in his damned existence. It's disturbing on so very many levels... and quite a bit pathetic if he's being honest, but he really doesn't care because she's smouldering her eyes at him in the most wonderful of ways.

Swallowing thickly and forcing his boiling blood to slow to a simmer he gives her a proud little smile of appreciation. "Limone." He says holding up the bright yellow citrus fruit before handing it to her waiting hands. "Lo lavi e grattugi la scorza." He says as he gives her the translation by other niftier means. _"You wash and grate the rind."_

"Li-mo-ne." He hears her murmur as she turns on the water and proceeds to wash and grate the peel.

His total awesomeness having this brilliant idea was clearly an underestimate because this moment; this piece of normality and domesticity is in its essence perfection. Centuries of this would be pure heaven... even just a few more days... His smile drops slightly and is replaced by a heaviness that settles squarely on his chest making it hard to breath and he's very thankful that his beautiful companion is turned away from him and is so engrossed in her task that she doesn't notice his obvious change in moods.

A muscle in his jaw ticks ominously right before the wonderful girl in front of him turns around and almost catches him. "Aggiungerla a due o tre cucchiai di pangrattato." He says smiling lightly as he hands over the bag of breadcrumbs and a spoon for her to measure and mix the two ingredients with all the while translating his instructions in her head. _"Mix it with two or three tablespoons of breadcrumbs."_

"Cu-cchi-ai?" She repeats holding out the spoon looking askance.

"Un cucchiaio, tanti cucchiai." He says slowly holding up one finger at first and then wiggling all his fingers in the air, the spirit fingers making her giggle delightfully and him smile genuinely.

"Un cu-cchi-ai-o..." She starts, spooning out breadcrumbs into a small bowl. "...due?" She continues glancing at him so that he'll confirm that she's gotten it right and his heart just about melts in its place when she grins proudly at him when he nods. "...cu-cchi-ai." She finishes giving a sharp nod as she dumps the second spoonful of breadcrumbs into her bowl.

"Now what?" She asks looking at him expectantly and that weight on his chest dissipates and he's left grinning stupidly at the girl of his dreams.

"Sbollenti le cimette del broccolo in aqua bollente salata per cinque a dieci minuti." He instructs and even though he's translated it for her - _"Blanch the florets of broccoli in boiling salt water for five to ten minutes." _-she looks like a giant question mark just hit her upside the head.

"Blanch? Floret?" She squeaks looking more than a bit confused as she clutches a rather large pot to her chest.

"How about I take care of that while you find a strainer and a pan?" He says while trying to pry the large pot from her hands in order to fill it.

She purses her plump dusky pink lips as she struggles to keep hold of the large pot. "Non voglio." ("I don't want to.") She retorts sounding a bit like a petulant child. "Facciolo _io_." ("_I_'ll do it.")She insists making him chuckle until he chokes on the sound and stares at her with a wide questioning icy blue gaze.

"Come again?" He says stupidly as his hands drop to his sides and hang there limply while he stares at her in disbelief.

Her large eyes roll as she cradles the pot possessively to her chest. "I'm sure I can manage if you just explain." She retorts dryly as if she'd not just spoken in a language he's sure she has little to no knowledge of.

Huffing he rolls his own crystalline eyes. "Not what I meant." He answers, barely managing to get the words out at all. _"Com' ai saputu comu se dice chisti cose ntrô talianu?"_ _("How'd you know how to say these things in Italian?")_ He pushes at her in a thick Sicilian accent that he knows not even all Italians understand.

"What?" She asks with a frown and a deeply furrowed brow. "You're the one that translated it all, remember?" She says which makes it quite clear that they're not actually talking about the same thing.

"You do realize that I didn't think that in English don't you? It wasn't even in... " He cuts himself off upon seeing the odd expression she's sporting. "Fa niente. Sembra che mi capisci anche in italiano quando penso." ("It doesn't matter. It seems that you also understand me when I think in Italian.") He says purposely not making a deal out of translating or explaining.

"Strano. Pensi che é un'estensione del nostro collegamento?" ("Strange. Do you think it's an extension of our bond?") She answers swiftly still not seeming to catch on to what she's actually doing.

"Assolutamente, considerando che stiamo avendo questa conversazione in italiano." ("Absolutely, considering we're having this conversation in Italian.") He replies with a very pleased smirk and a single raised dark brow.

She frowns at him and rolls her eyes. "Sei veramente spassoso." ("You're really funny.") She drawls dryly still not believing him.

"_Spassoso_?" He says meaningfully locking gazes with her. "Don't you mean _funny_?" He questions sounding as smug as only he can... which is pretty darn smug indeed.

Her plump lips part and close several times as her eyes grow alarmingly wider with each guppy like breath. "Porca miseria!" ("Damn it!") She shouts in shock right before she covers her mouth with her hands and the pot falls to the kitchen floor with a rather loud clank.

Her stomach decides to rumble loudly at that very moment and he just can't help himself. His laughter is roaring and genuine and he can hardly breathe when her cheeks turn bright red and her first hiccuping laughter joins in with his. Yeah, a century of this **will** be pure heaven.

oOo

**AN:** That's that; the next to last chapter.


	12. nowhere at noontide

**Disclaimer:** TVD belongs to whoever receives the royalties and that sure as hell isn't me. I just pretend while I'm writing.

**Summary:** After all is said and done Damon is about to leave, but decides to say goodbye to Elena before he does. It doesn't really go as he thought it would.

**AN:** Yes, I am aware that my hiatus has been ridiculously long, but in my defence I somehow ended up with a seven day work week that more often then not consisted of double shifts during my absence.

You guys are so effin amazing! I just checked my inbox for the first time in ages an there are SO MANY notifications for reviews, alerts and favourites that you've reduced me to a blubbering mess... so obviously you guys are all to blame for the sappiness of this the final chapter of Unsuccessfully Saying Goodbye.

oOo

**nowhere at noontide**

oOo

Somehow she's managed to trick him into taking a bike ride with her by making some vague sexual innuendoes that all seemed to have to do with his All Star fantasies. He doesn't do bikes... shit... he hasn't ridden one since the car was invented and that was quite a while ago. Apparently that saying about getting back on the bike or riding it or whatever is true because it turns out it's easier than he remembered.

Embarrassingly enough she also managed to fool him into buying a pair of shorts and wearing them with a teasingly raised eyebrow as she appreciatively ogled his legs and a significantly quickened heartbeat... well, that and the deliciously sweet scent of her arousal perfuming the air. He doesn't do shorts... fuck... he hasn't worn a pair of those since he was deemed old enough to wear big boy pants. Now that he thinks back on that whole era **that **part seems particularly ridiculous.

"Isn't this nice?" She questions as they roll down the narrow gravel road leading Nowhere, that's actually what the little hand painted sign at the beginning of the trail said, with the sun streaming down on them through the thick foliage.

Her wild curls seem to dance on the breeze as they trail after her and her beautiful brown eyes are alight with pure undiluted happiness. He never knew she could be this happy and it's agonizingly painful that it isn't until today that he's seen her look this way.

His smile is soft as he studies her from the corner of his eye. "It is." Goddamn she's gorgeous.

She stands up on the pedals and grins broadly. "I'll race ya' to that bush over there." She says pointing at an upcoming shrub. "No cheating, _daywalker_." She teases and he kind of likes that she calls him that.

"You're on, _fangbanger_." He retorts earning himself an indignant shriek and a three second head start. She catches up quickly though so when he crosses the finish line only a half of a wheel before her it's almost doubly as satisfying.

Not long after that, the trail abruptly ends at the mouth of a large field of high grass and wild flowers. This must be Nowhere; the place has a serene timelessness to it. There is nothing but nature for miles around.

She unceremoniously drops her bike in the grass with her plump lips slightly parted and her big brown eyes wide open. "Come on." She says venturing into the high grass giggling as the straws tickle her bare legs. She's so alive and he wonders if he'll ever be able to take that from her without them both breaking.

He follows quietly behind intent on keeping his sudden change of mood from her. She deserves to be this happy and free all the time and he can't just take that from her. He watches adoringly as the beautiful girl he calls his giggles and bends down to pick flowers while she strolls in front of him.

He pushes the thoughts aside and hurries to catch up with her, he's going to enjoy this for as long as it can possibly last.

"You're so beautiful." He says gazing at her lovingly as he pins a big red poppy behind her ear making her smile so broadly that her cute little nose crinkles.

"Did you know that, that was the first time you said I was beautiful?" She questions happily which kind of makes his heart break.

He furrows his dark brows and swallows around the uncomfortable lump in his throat. "Impossible. That can't be the first time." He says under his breath raking his mind for a time he told her and coming up blank. "I guess I've just thought it so many times that I thought I'd told you because you really are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid my eyes on." He says louder wondering what the hell is wrong with him.

She shrugs not seeming to mind it much. "I just thought you avoided bringing up my looks because of... you know... Katherine." She says slightly awkwardly, but still not seeming half as bothered by that as himself.

He shakes his head dismissively very disappointed in himself. "You may be similar at first sight, but you're far from identical." He says unable to shake the uncomfortable feeling that's taken him over knowing he's been neglecting his wonderful girl and withholding compliments from her.

She chuckles amusedly apparently finding the whole thing comical. "We're doppelgänger's ergo we're identical."

He snorts at that, spinning her around to face him and catch her in his embrace. "You're not. Trust me." He ghosts his hand down the column of her throat and further over her shoulder where he slides the wide strap of her top over the curve and down to reveal the soft skin beneath. "This..." He says kissing the hollow beneath her collarbone where a very small pale pink scar resides. "... is uniquely Elena."

Her eyes fill to the brim with tears as she smiles at him with such adoration that the words he's been making her hold back never need to be said at all. "Since I found out about her..." She says as the first tears begin to tumble down her cheeks. "... I've been waiting for someone to notice that."

She fumbles through her purse with shaky fingers while he studies her curiously. When she opens her delicate hand there is a small leather ring box that looks vaguely familiar lying in the palm of her hand.

"I hoped it would be you..." She says lifting her small shaking hand toward him. "... so I got you this." She says urging him to take the small box.

He takes it hesitantly surprised and touched that she'd gotten him a present for just seeing _her_. "What is it?" He asks feeling almost frightened to open the little thing.

"You'll see." She says and it seems that her whole being is trembling in anticipation.

The box opens with a hollow click and inside is something he never would have imagined. There is a beautiful vintage signet ring inside with a moderately sized square lapis lazuli sprinkled with small gold flecks that is encased in an elegant gold filigree that he quickly realizes bares his monogram... the same as is stitched on his favourite pair of silk boxers.

His glacial eyes flick up to meet hers as his mind and soul swim with unrestrained emotions. He can barely dare to believe what she's done for him.

She smiles hesitantly and takes the ring out of its box tilting it slightly so that he can see the inside of the band. "There's an inscription. You don't have to wear it if you don't want to." She almost whispers as she waits for him to look at what she's gotten engraved... _**"You are my home; there is no leaving for you are eternally in my heart."**_

He doesn't know what to think or do as he stands there frozen staring at her with his breath stuck in his throat.

Her face falls and she tries to hide the hurt look in her eyes. "It's silly; you don't like it." She says before swallowing thickly. "You don't have to wear it... I... I just wanted you to know." She states forcing herself to smile as she slips the beautiful ring back into its box and shuts it.

Thankfully that's when he comes back to his senses. "What? No, I... I..." He chokes out snapping the lid back open. "I can't believe you did this." He says and he can't hold back the single tear that escapes his eyes. "I can't believe you did this for _me_." His hands are shaking as he gingerly pulls the thoughtful jewellery out of its place. She's amazing.

He inhales shakily before he with preternatural speed switches the rings and he's left staring at his trembling hand. This is so far beyond anything he could ever have imagined anyone would think to do for him. Standing under the brightly shining sun he never has to be reminded again of the disaster that tuned him into what he is. There is just no one in this world that understands him better than the amazing girl standing with hopeful eyes in front of him.

"When on earth did you have time to do this?" He asks still trying to get his hands and voice to stop trembling.

She shrugs slightly. "I found it maybe two - three weeks after Klaus, but it took a while before it was finished." She answers nonchalantly trying to not make a big deal about the thing.

BUT it's a huge deal. She did this... she somehow knew and she did this for him long before she left with him. He figures with an inscription like that one she must have decided long before he announced that he was leaving that she wasn't veering from his side. How is it possible that he didn't know? She said Jeremy knew... did everyone but him know?

His clear blue eyes snap up to meet her warm brown ones. "Tell me." He pleads urgently and when she just looks confused he opens the floodgates in his mind and pleads again. "Tell me."

She stumbles back slightly and rubs at her temples before her mouth slides into an easy grin and she shakes her head slightly making her dark ringlets dance around her beautiful face. "That's not important." She says smiling widely "But, there is something else that is." She adds taking a single step forward so that their toes touch. "I'm in love with you Damon Salvatore and I have been for quite some time now."

And there it is.

His reaction comes on pure instinct as he chuckling wraps his arms around her and spins. When he puts her back down he crashes his lips onto hers in a bruising fevered kiss that slowly winds down and softens until they both look drugged as they lazily caress each other.

He never should have doubted that she'd find the perfect time and setting to tell him how she feels. He will never forget this moment or this day. The girl seems to know even the things he barely dares to admit to himself and still she loves him... **she loves him**.

They sink slowly into the lush grass never breaking their lip lock as they do so. He finally breaks away from her kiss swollen lips so that he can catch his breath and her warm chocolate gaze. She grins widely at him as her small hands trail languidly from behind his neck to the top button of his shirt. She takes her time unbuttoning every little one of the buttons as he simply gazes at her while caressing the perfect curves of her hips.

As she slides his shirt of his shoulders and down his arms she leans forward and bestows his lips with a sweet kiss that has him humming in satisfaction. He's never had this before; this soft and sweet sort of romance. There is suddenly no need for the blood or all the other tricks that come with this brand of death magic. It's just him and her... nothing else matters.

The rest of their clothes come off in much the same fashion as his shirt. Here in the middle of Nowhere they finally take their time to properly worship each other. He makes a point to kiss every scar and birthmark that only she, his sweet wonderful Elena, has as he explores every silky soft inch of her glorious body.

He finds a spot behind her knee that makes her giggles sweetly and another just below her ear that makes her moan. She finds the spot on his lower back that sends shivers up his spine and also discovers that if she rakes her short nails just _so_ across his scalp then he will actually fucking purr for her. It makes her coo at him in the cutest manner possible.

Her long lean legs wrap around his hips and she smiles up at him. Her big brown eyes radiate with love and warmth that seems to slowly fill him up just as he does her. His hips move slowly and hers easily match his pace. He wants it to last; to never end... but all good things...

With eyes half lidded and trained on each other they both unravel. First her with an arched back and a moaned _I love you_. Then him with a tight grasp on her hips and her name spilling from his lips in a prayer.

He's lying on his back in the high grass counting clouds and humming a tune his mother used to sing him to sleep with when he was little; when Stefan still hadn't been born. She's sitting next to him in nothing but his shirt slowly weaving a wreath out of wild flowers and humming along to the tune she seems to know as well as him by now.

He turns his celestial gaze on the love of his life and as he watches her he can't help but say... "I wish that it had been you that I met and not Katherine. I think you would have liked me better back then. We would have gotten married after I wooed you, then we would have had a bunch of kids and grown old and wrinkly together. It would have been perfect." … because he wishes he could give her the fairytale dream that she so deserves.

She stops and lifts her warm gaze to meet his. "We can still have that." She says softly and tilts her head to the side to study him.

Crinkling his brow wondering if he just heard her right he rolls to his side and rests his head on his arm. "Last I checked I was still a vampire." He says only half kidding.

Rolling her eyes amusedly at him she goes back to her wreath. "You can still woo and marry me. We could adopt. Family ties don't come from blood they come from love and as for growing old together... I don't know about you, but I'm aiming for at least a thousand." When she says it, it seems so simple; so simple that he really wants to believe her.

He chuckles at her optimism. "That's not what I meant. I wish that I had a life with you with all that it entails."

Placing the wreath of bluebells, daisies, buttercups and forget-me-nots on his head she presses a tender kiss to his smiling lips. "This, what we have, is better." When she pulls back to meet his gaze there is nothing but truth shining there. He must have been a freaking saint in a different life to have been deemed worthy enough to be allowed to love her... and have her love him back.

"Lets go home." He says realizing that it's time he took her where he's wanted to take her since before he knew she existed.

"Hmm... don't forget that we need to stop and get milk on the way." She says absentmindedly, clearly not having understood what he meant.

He cranes his neck in order to catch her warm earthy gaze. "No, I want to go _home_." He repeats trying to force her to understand much like she had so many months go.

The corners of her mouth twitch in anticipation of her soft smile and her beautiful brown eyes study him intently shining with disbelief and so much hope. "Really?" She finally says.

"We can't very well get married without our family." He says offhandedly, but making sure that it's clear that there is no his or hers just theirs.

She giggles giddily and the sound is such a sweet one. "Mister Salvatore, I'm pretty sure you have to ask before you start planning." She says sternly although it has little effect since she's ginning at him fondly with glassy eyes.

He scoffs trying to bite back a very stubborn grin trying to emerge. "You're the one, Miss Gilbert, that said I could marry you." He means to say it as an accusation, but he only manages to sound happily smug... AND he is happier than he's ever been before in his very long life.

She throws back her head laughing heartily looking absolutely divine and even more so when she launches herself onto him, knocking him back. "Touché." She says before claiming his lips in a scorching kiss that he's sure he'll remember for the rest of eternity. "Lets go home."

oOo

**AN:** So that's it. I really would love to hear your thoughts on this last chapter or the fic in its entirety. Thank you all so very much for joining me on this strange little journey and I hope you've enjoyed it at least half as much as I have.


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